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Myths That Every Child Should Know 





















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MYTHS THAT EVERY 
CHILD SHOULD KNOW 

A SELECTION OF THE CLASSIC MYTHS 
OF ALL TIMES FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 

- ^EDITED BY - — : -■■-= = 

HAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE 

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ILLUSTRATED AND DECORATED 
BY BLANCHE OSTERTAG 



NEW YORK 

Doubleday, Page & Company 

1905 


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Copyright, 1905, by 
Doubleday, Page & Company 
Published, October, 1905 


-All rights reserved, 

ineluding that of translation into foreign languages , 
ineluding the Scandinavian. 


NOTE 


The editor and publishers wish to express their 
appreciation of the courtesy of Messrs. Houghton, 
Mifflin dr® Co., Dodd, Mead 6° Co., and the Macmillan 
Company, by means of which they have been enabled 
to reprint stories from Hawthorne’s “ Wonder Book ” 
and “ Tanglewood Tales,” from “ In the Days of 
Giants,” from “ Norse Stories,” from Church’s “ Stories 
from Homer,” and from Kingsley’s “ Greek Heroes.” 



CONTENTS 


Introduction 

ix 

CHAPTEF 


PAGE 

I. 

The Three Golden Apples . 

(Hawthorne’s “ Wonder Book ”) 

3 

II. 

The Pomegranate Seeds 

(Hawthorne’s “Tanglewood Tales”) 

27 

III. 

The Chimera 

(Hawthorne’s “ Wonder Book ”) 

65 

IV. 

The Golden Touch 

(Hawthorne’s “ Wonder Book ”) 

92 

V. 

The Gorgon’s Head 

(Hawthorne’s “ Wonder Book ”) 

112 

VI. 

The Dragon’s Teeth 

(Hawthorne’s “Tanglewood Tales”) 

140 

^^VII. 

The Miraculous Pitcher 

(Hawthorne’s “Wonder Book”) 

i74 

VIII. 

The Paradise of Children 

(Hawthorne’s “Wonder Book ”) 

197 

^ IX. 

The Cyclops 

(Church’s “ Stories from Homer ”) 

216 

X. 

The Argonauts .... 

(Kingsley’s “ Greek Heroes ”) 

227 

XI. 

The Giant Builder 

(“ In Days of Giants ”) 

299 

XII. 

How Odin Lost His Eye 

(“ In Days of Giants ”) 

308 

XIII. 

The Quest of the Hammer 

(“ In Days of Giants ”) 

316 

XIV. 
^ XV. 

The Apples of Idun ... 

(“ Norse Stories ”) 

330 

The Death of Balder . 

(“ Norse Stories ”) 

337 

XVI. 

The Star and the Lily . 

(Miss Emerson’s “Indian Myths ”) 
vii 

348 


INTRODUCTION 


In many parts of the country when the soil is disturbed 
arrow heads are found. Now, it is a great many years 
since arrow heads have been used, and they were never 
used by the people who own the land in which they appear 
or by their ancestors. To explain the presence of these 
roughly cut pieces of stone we must recall the weapons 
with which the Indians fought when Englishmen, French- 
men, Dutchmen, and Spaniards first came to this part of 
the world. There may be no authentic history of Indians 
in the particular locality in which these old-fashioned 
weapons come to light, but their presence in the ground 
is the best kind of evidence that Indians once lived on 
these fields or were in the habit of hunting over them. 
In many parts of the country these arrow heads are turned 
up in great numbers; museums large and small are plenti- 
fully supplied with them; and they form part of the record 
of the men who once lived here, and of their ways of killing 
game and destroying their enemies. Wherever there are 
arrow heads there have been Indians. 

Among every people and in every language there are 
found stories, superstitions, traditions, phrases, which 
are not to be explained by the thoughts or ideas or beliefs 
of people now living; and the same stories, superstitions, 
phrases, are found among people as far apart as those of 
Norway and Australia. The people of to-day tell these 
stories or remember the superstitions or use the phrases 
without understanding where they came from or what 


IX 


X 


Introduction 


they meant when first used. As the ground in some sec- 
tions is full of arrow heads that have been buried no one 
knows how many centuries, so the poetry we read, the 
music we hear, the stories told us when we are children, 
have come down from a time in the history of man so early 
that there are in many cases no other records or remains 
of it. These stories vary greatly in details; they fit every 
climate and wear the peculiar dress of every country; but 
it is easy to see that they are made up of the same mate- 
rials, and that they describe the same persons or ideas or 
things whether they are told in Greece or India or Norway 
or Brittany. Wherever they are found they make it cer- 
tain that they come from a very remote time and grew out 
of ideas or feelings and ways of looking at the world which 
a great many men shared in common in many places. 

When a man sneezes, people still say in some countries, 
“God bless you.” They do not know why they say it; 
they simply repeat what they heard older people say when 
they were children, and do not know that every time they 
use these words they recall the age when people believed 
that evil spirits could enter into a man, and that when a 
man sneezed he expelled one of these spirits. It is a very 
old and widely spread superstition that when a dog howls 
at night someone not far away is dying or will soon die. 
Many people are uncomfortable when they hear a dog 
howling after dark, not because they believe that dogs 
have any knowledge that death is present or coming, but 
because their ancestors for many centuries believed that 
the howling of a dog was ominous, and the habits of our 
ancestors leave deep traces in our natures. 

Now, every time the melancholy howling of a dog at 
night makes a child uncomfortable, he recalls the old 
superstition which identified the roaring or wailing of the 


Introduction 


xi 


wind with a wolf or dog into which a god or demon had 
entered, with power to summon the spirits of men to fol- 
low him as he rushed along in the darkness. In the old 
homes in the forests, thousands of years ago, children 
crowded about the open fire and trembled when a great 
blast shook the house, for fear that the gigantic beast who 
made the sound would call them and they would be com- 
pelled to follow him. We think of wind as air in motion; 
they thought of it as the breath and sound of some living 
creature. When we say that the wind “whistled in the 
keyhole,” or “kissed the flowers,” or “drove the clouds” 
before it, we are using poetically the language our fore- 
fathers used literally. 

We speak of “the siren voice of pleasure,” “the blow 
of fate,” “the smile of fortune,” and do not remember, 
often do not know, that we are recalling that remote past 
when people believed that there were Sirens on the coast 
of Crete whose voices were so sweet that sailors could not 
resist them and were drawn on to the rocks and drowned; 
that fate was a terrible, relentless, passionless person with 
supreme power over gods and men; that fortune was a 
being who smiled or frowned as men smile or frown, 
but whose smile meant prosperity and her frown 
disaster. 

There are few poems which have interested children 
more than Robert Browning’s “Pied Piper of Hamelin.” 
The story runs that long ago, in the year 1284, the old 
German town of Hamelin was so overrun with rats that 
there was no peace for the people living in it. When 
things were at their worst a strange man appeared in the 
place and offered, for a sum of money, to clear it of these 
pests. The bargain was made and the stranger began to 
pipe; and straightway, from every nook and corner in the 


xii 


Introduction 


old town, the rats came in swarms, followed him to the 
river Weser and jumped in and were drowned. 

When the people found that the city was really free 
from rats they were ungrateful enough to say that the 
piper had used magic, which was believed to be the prac- 
tice of the evil spirit, and refused to carry out their part 
of the contract. The stranger went off in a great rage 
and threatened to come back again and take payment in 
his own way. On St. John’s Day, which was a time of 
great festivity, he suddenly reappeared, blew a new and 
beguiling air on his pipe, and immediately every child 
in the city felt as if a hand had seized him and ran pell- 
mell after the musician as he climbed the mountain, in 
which a door suddenly opened, and through that door all, 
save a lame boy, passed and were never seen again. 

From this old story probably came the proverb about 
paying the piper; and it is one of many stories which 
turn on the magical power of a voice or a sound to draw 
men, women, and children to their doom. These very 
interesting stories are not like the stories which are made 
up just to please people and help them pass away the 
time; they are different forms of one story — the story of 
the wind, told by people who thought that the wind was 
not what we call a force but a person, and that when he 
called those who heard must follow if he chose; for “the 
piper is no other than the wind, and the ancients held that 
in the wind were the souls of the dead.” 

If every time we think of a force we should think of a 
person, we should see the world as the men and women 
who made the myths saw it. Everything that moved, or 
made a sound, or flashed out light, or gave out heat was 
a person to them; they could not think of the wind rushing 
through the trees or the storm devastating the fields with- 


Introduction 


xiii 


out imagining someone like themselves, only more power- 
ful, behind the uproar and destruction, any more than we 
can see a lantern moving along the road at night without 
thinking instinctively that somebody is carrying it. 

Our idea of the world is scientific because it is based on 
exact though by no means complete knowledge; the 
myth-makers’ idea of the world was poetic because, with 
very incomplete knowledge, they could not imagine how 
anything could be done unless it was done as they did 
things. When the black clouds gather on a summer after- 
noon and roll up the sky in great, terrifying masses, and 
the lightning flashes from them and the crash of the thun- 
der fills the air and the rain beats down the crops, we feel 
as if we were in the laboratory of nature seeing a wonderful 
experiment made; when our ancestors saw the same spec- 
tacle they were sure that a great dragon, breathing fire and 
roaring with anger, was ravaging the earth. As children 
to-day imagine that dolls are alive, that fairies dance in 
moonlit meadows on summer nights, or beasts or Indians 
make the sounds in the woods, so the people who made 
the myths filled the world with creatures unlike them- 
selves, but with something of human intelligence, feeling 
and will. 

As imaginative children personify the sounds they hear, 
so the men and women of an early time personified every- 
thing that lived or moved or gave any sign of life. They 
filled the earth, air, and sea with imaginary beings who 
had power over the elements and affected the lives of 
men. There were nymphs in the sea, dryads in the trees, 
kindly or destructive spirits in the air, household gods 
who watched over the home, and greater gods who man- 
aged the affairs of the world. When an intelligent man 
finds himself in new surroundings, he begins at once to 


xiv 


Introduction 


study them and try to understand them. In every age 
this has been one of the greatest objects of interest to men, 
and every generation has endeavoured to explain the 
world, so as to satisfy not only its curiosity but its reason. 
The myths were explanations of the world created by peo- 
ple who had not had time to study that world closely nor to 
train themselves to study it in a scientific way. They saw 
the world with their imaginations quite as much as with 
their eyes, and as they put persons behind every kind and 
form of life, they told stories about the world instead of 
making accurate and matter-of-fact reports of it. The 
change of the seasons is not at all mysterious to us; but 
to the Norsemen it was a wonderful struggle between gods 
and giants. In the summer the gods had their triumph, 
but in the winter the giants had their way. Year after 
year and century after century this terrible warfare went 
on until a day should come when, in a last great battle, 
both gods and giants would be destroyed and a new heaven 
and earth arise. These same brave and warlike men 
believed that the most powerful fighter among the gods 
was Thor, and that it was the swinging and crashing 
of his terrible hammer which made the lightning and 
thunder. 

The sun, which vanquished the darkness, put out the 
stars, drove the cold to the far north, called back the 
flowers, made the fields fertile, awoke men from sleep and 
filled them with courage and hope, was the centre of 
mythology, and appears and reappears in a thousand 
stories in many parts of the world, and in all kinds of dis- 
guises. Now he is the most beautiful and noble of the 
Greek gods, Apollo; now he is Odin, with a single eye; 
now he is Hercules, the hero, with his twelve great labours 
for the good of men; now he is (Edipus, who met the 


Introduction 


xv 


Sphinx and solved her riddle. In the early times men 
saw how everything in the world about them drew its 
strength and beauty from the sun; how the sun warned 
the earth and made the crops grow; how it brought glad- 
ness and hope and inspiration to men; and they made it 
the centre of the great world story, the foremost hero of 
the great world play. For the myths form a poetical ex- 
planation of the earth, the sea, the sky, and of the life of 
man in this wonderful universe, and each great myth was 
a chapter in a story which endowed day and night, sum- 
mer and winter, sun, moon, stars, winds, clouds, fire, with 
life, and made them actors in the mysterious drama of the 
world. Our Norse forefathers thought of themselves 
always as looking on at a terrible fight between the gods, 
who were light and heat and fruitfulness, revealed in the 
beauty of day and the splendour of summer, and the 
giants, who were darkness, cold and barrenness, revealed 
in the gloom of night and the desolation of winter. To 
the Norseman, as to the Greek, the Roman, the Hindu 
and other primitive peoples, the world was the scene of a 
great struggle, the stage on which gods, demons, and heroes 
were contending for supremacy; and they told that story 
in a thousand different ways. Every myth is a chapter 
in that story, and differs from other stories and legends 
because it is an explanation of something that happened 
in earth, sea, or sky. 

If the men who created the myths had set to work to 
make wonder tales as stories are sometimes made to 
instruct while they entertain children, they would have 
left a mass of very dull tales which few people would have 
cared to read. They had no idea of doing anything so 
artificial and mechanical; they made these old stories 
because all life was a story to them, full of splendid or 


XVI 


Introduction 


terrible figures moving across the sky or through the sea 
and in the depths of the woods, and whichever way they 
looked they saw or thought they saw mysterious and 
wonderful things going on. They were as much inter- 
ested in their world as we are in ours ; we write hundreds 
of scientific books every year to explain our world; they 
told hundreds of stories every year to explain theirs. 

This selection represents the work of several authors, 
and does not, therefore, preserve uniformity of style. 
It is probably better for the young reader that the Greek 
Myths should come from one hand, and the Norse Myths 
from another. The classical work of Hawthorne has 
been generously drawn upon. No change of any kind 
has been made in the text, but the introductions connect- 
ing one myth with another have been omitted. 

Hamilton Wright Mabie. 








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Myths That Every Child Should Know 














MYTHS EVERY CHILD SHOULD 
KNOW 

CHAPTER I 

THE THREE GOLDEN APPLES 

Did you ever hear of the golden apples that grew 
in the garden of the Hesperides? Ah, those were such 
apples as would bring a great price, by the bushel, if 
any of them could be found growing in the orchards 
of nowadays! But there is not, I suppose, a graft of 
that wonderful fruit on a single tree in the wide world. 
Not so much as a seed of those apples exists any 
longer. 

And, even in the old, old, half -forgotten times, before 
the garden of the Hesperides was overrun with weeds, 
a great many people doubted whether there could be 
real trees that bore apples of solid gold upon their 
branches. All had heard of them, but nobody remem- 
bered to have seen any. Children, nevertheless, used to 
listen, open-mouthed, to stories of the golden apple tree, 
and resolved to discover it, when they should be big 
enough. Adventurous young men, who desired to do 
a braver thing than any of their fellows, set out in quest 
of this fruit. Many of them returned no more; none of 
them brought back the apples. No wonder that they 
found it impossible to gather them ! It is said that there 
was a dragon beneath the tree, with a hundred terrible 
3 


4 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


heads, fifty of which were always on the watch, while the 
other fifty slept. 

In my opinion it was hardly worth running so much 
risk for the sake of a solid golden apple. Had the 
apples been sweet, mellow, and juicy, indeed that would 
be another matter. There might then have been some 
sense in trying to get at them, in spite of the hundred- 
headed dragon. 

But, as I have already told you, it was quite a common 
thing with young persons, when tired of too much peace 
and rest, to go in search of the garden of the Hesperides. 
And once the adventure was undertaken by a hero who 
had enjoyed very little peace or rest since he came into 
the world. At the time of which I am going to speak, he 
was wandering through the pleasant land of Italy, with 
a mighty club in his hand, and a bow and quiver slung 
across his shoulders. He was wrapt in the skin of the 
biggest and fiercest lion that ever had been seen, and 
which he himself had killed ; and though, on the whole, he 
was kind, and generous, and noble, there was a good deal 
of the lion’s fierceness in his heart. As he went on his 
way, he continually inquired whether that were the 
right road to the famous garden. But none of the country 
people knew anything about the matter, and many 
looked as if they would have laughed at the question, if 
the stranger had not carried so very big a club. 

So he journeyed on and on, still making the same 
inquiry, until, at last, he came to the brink of a river 
where some beautiful young women sat twining wreaths 
of flowers. 

“Can you tell me, pretty maidens,” asked the stran- 
ger, “whether this is the right w r ay to the garden of the 
Hesperides ? ” 


The Three Golden Apples 


5 


The young women had been having a fine time together, 
weaving the flowers into wreaths, and crowning one 
another’s heads. And there seemed to be a kind of magic 
in the touch of their fingers, that made the flowers more 
fresh and dewy, and of brighter hues, and sweeter 
fragrance, while they played with them, than even when 
they had been growing on their native stems. But, on 
hearing the stranger’s question, they dropped all their 
flowers on the grass, and gazed at him with astonishment. 

“The garden of the Hesperides!” cried one. “We 
thought mortals had been weary of seeking it, after so 
many disappointments. And pray, adventurous traveller, 
what do you want there ? ” 

“A certain king, who is my cousin,” replied he, “has 
ordered me to get him three of the golden apples.” 

“Most of the young men who go in quest of these 
apples,” observed another of the damsels, “desire to 
obtain them for themselves, or to present them to some 
fair maiden whom they love. Do you, then, love this 
king, your cousin, so very much?” 

“Perhaps not,” replied the stranger, sighing. “He 
has often been severe and cruel to me. But it is my 
destiny to obey him.” 

“And do you know,” asked the damsel who had first 
spoken, “that a terrible dragon, with a hundred heads, 
keeps watch under the golden apple tree?” 

“I know it well,” answered the stranger, calmly. 
“But, from my cradle upward, it has been my business, 
and almost my pastime, to deal with serpents and 
dragons.” 

The young women looked at his massive club, and 
at the shaggy lion’s skin which he wore, and likewise 
at his heroic limbs and figure; and they whispered to 


6 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


each other that the stranger appeared to be one who 
might reasonably expect to perform deeds far beyond 
the might of other men. But, then, the dragon with a 
hundred heads! What mortal, even if he possessed a 
hundred lives, could hope to escape the fangs of such 
a monster? So kind-hearted were the maidens that 
they could not bear to see this brave and handsome 
traveller attempt what was so very dangerous, and 
devote himself, most probably, to become a meal for the 
dragon’s hundred ravenous mouths. 

“Go back,” cried they all — “go back to your own 
home! Your mother, beholding you safe and sound, 
will shed tears of joy; and what can she do more, should 
you win ever so great a victory? No matter for the 
golden apples! No matter for the king, your cruel 
cousin! We do not wish the dragon with the hundred 
heads to eat you up!” 

The stranger seemed to grow impatient at these re- 
monstrances. He carelessly lifted his mighty club, and 
let it fall upon a rock that lay half buried in the earth, near 
by. With the force of that idle blow, the great rock 
was shattered all to pieces. It cost the stranger no more 
effort to achieve this feat of a giant’s strength than for 
one of the young maidens to touch her sister’s rosy 
cheek with a flower. 

“Do you not believe,” said he, looking at the damsels 
with a smile, “that such a blow would have crushed one 
of the dragon’s hundred heads?” 

Then he sat down on the grass, and told them the 
story of his life, or as much of it as he could remember, 
from the day when he was first cradled in a warrior’s 
brazen shield. While he lay there, two immense serpents 
came gliding over the floor, and opened their hideous 


The Three Golden Apples 


7 


jaws to devour him; and he, a baby of a few months 
old, had griped one of the fierce snakes in each of his 
little fists, and strangled them to death. When he was 
but a stripling, he had killed a huge lion, almost as big 
as the one whose vast and shaggy hide he now wore upon 
his shoulders. The next thing that he had done was to 
fight a battle with an ugly sort of monster, called a hydra, 
which had no less than nine heads, and exceedingly sharp 
teeth in every one. 

“But the dragon of the Hesperides, you know,” 
observed one of the damsels, “has a hundred heads!” 

“Nevertheless,” replied the stranger, “I would rather 
fight two such dragons than a single hydra. For, as 
fast as I cut off a head, two others grew in its place; and, 
besides, there was one of the heads that could not possibly 
be killed, but kept biting as fiercely as ever, long after 
it was cut off. So I was forced to bury it under a stone, 
where it is doubtless alive to this very day. But the 
hydra’s body, and its eight other heads, will never do any 
further mischief.” 

The damsels, judging that the story was likely to last 
a good while, had been preparing a repast of bread and 
grapes, that the stranger might refresh himself in the 
intervals of his talk. They took pleasure in helping 
him to this simple food; and, now and then, one of 
them would put a sweet grape between her rosy lips, lest 
it should make him bashful to eat alone. 

The traveller proceeded to tell how he had chased a 
very swift stag for a twelvemonth together, without 
ever stopping to take breath, and had at last caught it 
by the antlers, and carried it home alive. And he had 
fought with a very odd race of people, half horses and 
half men, and had put them all to death, from a sense 


8 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


of duty, in order that their ugly figures might never 
be seen any more. Besides all this, he took to himself 
great credit for having cleaned out a stable. 

“Do you call that a wonderful exploit?” asked one 
of the young maidens, with a smile. “Any clown in 
the country has done as much!” 

“Had it been an ordinary stable,” replied the stranger, 
“I should not have mentioned it. But this was so 
gigantic a task that it would have taken me all my 
life to perform it, if I had not luckily thought of turning 
the channel of a river through the stable door. That 
did the business in a very short time!” 

Seeing how earnestly his fair auditors listened, he 
next told them how he had shot some monstrous birds, 
and had caught a wild bull alive and let him go again, 
and had tamed a number of very wild horses, and had 
conquered Hippolyta, the warlike queen of the Amazons. 
He mentioned, likewise, that he had taken off Hippolyta’s 
enchanted girdle and had given it to the daughter of his 
cousin, the king. 

“Was it the girdle of Venus,” inquired the prettiest 
of the damsels, “which makes women beautiful?” 

“No,” answered the stranger. “It had formerly 
been the sword belt of Mars; and it can only make the 
wearer valiant and courageous.” 

“An old sword belt!” cried the damsel, tossing her 
head. “Then I should not care about having it!” 

“You are right,” said the stranger. 

Going on with his wonderful narrative, he informed 
the maidens that as strange an adventure as ever hap- 
pened was when he fought with Geryon, the six-legged 
man. This was a very odd and frightful sort of figure, 
as you may well believe. Any person, looking at his 


The Three Golden Apples 


9 


tracks in the sand or snow, would suppose that three 
sociable companions had been walking along together. 
On hearing his footsteps at a little distance, it was 
no more than reasonable to judge that several people 
must be coming. But it was only the strange man 
Geryon clattering onward, with his six legs! 

Six legs, and one gigantic body! Certainly, he must 
have been a very queer monster to look at; and, my 
stars, what a waste of shoe leather! 

When the stranger had finished the story of his ad- 
ventures, he looked around at the attentive faces of 
the maidens. 

‘‘Perhaps you may have heard of me before,” said 
he, modestly. “My name is Hercules !” 

“We had already guessed it,” replied the maidens; 
“for your wonderful deeds are known all over the world. 
We do not think it strange, any longer, that you should 
set out in quest of the golden apples of the Hesperides. 
Come, sisters, let us crown the hero with flowers ! ” 

Then they flung beautiful wreaths over his stately 
head and mighty shoulders, so that the lion’s skin was 
almost entirely covered with roses. They took posses- 
sion of his ponderous club, and so entwined it about 
with the brightest, softest, and most fragrant blossoms 
that not a finger’s breadth of its oaken substance could 
be seen. It looked all like a huge bunch of flowers. 
Lastly, they joined hands, and danced around him, 
chanting words which became poetry of their own 
accord, and grew into a choral song, in honour of the 
illustrious Hercules. 

And Hercules was rejoiced, as any other hero would 
have been, to know that these fair young girls had heard 
of the valiant deeds which it had cost him so much toil 


io Myths Every Child Should Know 

and danger to achieve. But still he was not satisfied. 
He could not think that what he had already done was 
worthy of so much honour, while there remained any 
bold or difficult adventure to be undertaken. 

“Dear maidens,” said he, when they paused to take 
breath, “now that you know my name, will you not 
tell me how I am to reach the garden of the Hesperides ? ” 

“ Ah ! must you go to soon ? ” they exclaimed. “ You — 
that have performed so many wonders, and spent such 
a toilsome life — cannot you content yourself to repose a 
little while on the margin of this peaceful river?” 

Hercules shook his head. 

“I must depart now,” said he. 

“We will then give you the best directions we can,” 
replied the damsels. “You must go to the seashore, 
and find out the Old One, and compel him to inform you 
where the golden apples are to be found.” 

“The Old One!” repeated Hercules, laughing at this 
odd name. “And, pray, who may the Old One be?” 

“Why, the Old Man of the Sea, to be sure!” answered 
one of the damsels. “He has fifty daughters, whom 
some people call very beautiful; but we do not think it 
proper to be acquainted with them, because they have 
sea-green hair, and taper away like fishes. You must 
talk with this Old Man of the Sea. He is a seafaring 
person, and knows all about the garden of the Hesperides, 
for it is situated in an island which he is often in the 
habit of visiting.” 

Hercules then asked whereabouts the Old One was 
most likely to be met with. When the damsels had 
informed him, he thanked them for all their kindness, 
— for the bread and grapes with which they had fed 
him, the lovely flowers with which they had crowned 


The Three Golden Apples 


ii 


him, and the songs and dances wherewith they had 
done him honour— and he thanked them, most of all, 
for telling him the right way— and immediately set 
forth upon his journey. 

But, before he was out of hearing, one of the maidens 
called after him. 

“Keep fast hold of the Old One, when you catch 
him!” cried she, smiling, and lifting her finger to make 
the caution more impressive. “Do not be astonished 
at anything that may happen. Only hold him fast, and 
he will tell you what you wish to know.” 

Hercules again thanked her, and pursued his way, 
while the maidens resumed their pleasant labour of 
making flower wreaths. They talked about the hero 
long after he was gone. 

“We will crown him with the loveliest of our gar- 
lands,” said they, “when he returns hither with the 
three golden apples, after slaying the dragon with a 
hundred heads.” 

Meanwhile, Hercules travelled constantly onward, 
over hill and dale, and through the solitary woods. 
Sometimes he swung his club aloft, and splintered a 
mighty oak with a downright blow. His mind was so 
full of the giants and monsters with whom it was the 
business of his life to fight, that perhaps he mistook 
the great tree for a giant or a monster. And so eager 
was Hercules to achieve what he had undertaken, that 
he almost regretted to have spent so much time with 
the damsels, wasting idle breath upon the story of his 
adventures. But thus it always is with persons who are 
destined to perform great things. What they have already 
done seems less than nothing. What they have taken in 
hand to do seems worth toil, danger, and life itself. 


12 Myths Every Child Should Know 

Persons who happened to be passing through the 
forest must have been affrighted to see him smite the 
trees with his great club. With but a single blow, the 
trunk was riven as by the stroke of lightning and the 
broad boughs came rustling and crashing down. 

Hastening forward, without ever pausing or looking 
behind, he by and by heard the sea roaring at a distance. 
At this sound, he increased his speed, and soon came to 
a beach, where the great surf waves tumbled themselves 
upon the hard sand, in a long line of snowy foam. At 
one end of the beach, however, there was a pleasant spot, 
where some green shrubbery clambered up a cliff, making 
its rocky face look soft and beautiful. A carpet of verdant 
grass, largely intermixed with sweet-smelling clover, 
covered the narrow space between the bottom of the cliff 
and the sea. And what should Hercules espy there but 
an old man, fast asleep! 

But was it really and truly an old man? Certainly, 
at first sight, it looked very like one; but, on closer 
inspection, it rather seemed to be some kind of a creature 
that lived in the sea. For on his legs and arms there 
were scales, such as fishes have; he was web-footed and 
web-fingered, after the fashion of a duck; and his long 
beard, being of a greenish tinge, had more the appearance 
of a tuft of seaweed than of an ordinary beard. Have 
you never seen a stick of timber, that has been long tossed 
about by the waves, and has got all overgrown with 
barnacles, and, at last drifting ashore, seems to have 
been thrown up from the very deepest bottom of the sea. 
Well, the old man would have put you in mind of just such 
a wave-tossed spar! But Hercules, the instant he set eyes 
on this strange figure, was convinced that it could be no 
other than the Old One, who was to direct him on his way. 


The Three Golden Apples 


13 


Yes, it was the selfsame Old Man of the Sea whom 
the hospitable maidens had talked to him about. Thank- 
ing his stars for the lucky accident of finding the old 
fellow asleep, Hercules stole on tiptoe toward him, and 
caught him by the arm and leg. 

“Tell me,” cried he, before the Old One was well awake, 
“which is the way to the garden of the Hesperides?” 

As you may easily imagine, the Old Man of the Sea 
awoke in a fright. But his astonishment could hardly 
have been greater than was that of Hercules, the next 
moment. For, all of a sudden, the Old One seemed to 
disappear out of his grasp, and he found himself holding 
a stag by the fore and hind leg! But still he kept fast 
hold. Then the stag disappeared, and in its stead there 
was a sea bird, fluttering and screaming, while Hercules 
clutched it by the wing and claw! But the bird could 
not get away. Immediately afterward, there was an 
ugly three-headed dog, which growled and barked at 
Hercules, and snapped fiercely at the hands by which he 
held him! But Hercules would not let him go. In 
another minute, instead of the three-headed dog, what 
should appear but Geryon, the six-legged man monster, 
kicking at Hercules with five of his legs, in order to get the 
remaining one at liberty! But Hercules held on. By 
and by, no Geryon was there, but a huge snake, like 
one of those which Hercules had strangled in his baby- 
hood, only a hundred times as big; and it twisted and 
twined about the hero’s neck and body, and threw its 
tail high into the air, and opened its deadly jaws as if 
to devour him outright; so that it was really a very 
terrible spectacle! But Hercules was no whit disheart- 
ened, and squeezed the great snake so tightly that he 
soon began to hiss with pain. 


14 Myths Every Child Should Know 

You must understand that the Old Man of the Sea, 
though he generally looked so much like the wave- 
beaten figurehead of a vessel, had the power of assum- 
ing any shape he pleased. When he found himself 
so roughly seized by Hercules, he had been in hopes of 
putting him into such surprise and terror, by these 
magical transformations, that the hero would be glad 
to let him go. If Hercules had relaxed his grasp, the 
Old One would certainly have plunged down to the 
very bottom of the sea, whence he would not soon have 
given himself the trouble of coming up, in order to answer 
any impertinent questions. Ninety-nine people out of 
a hundred, I suppose, would have been frightened out 
of their wits by the very first of his ugly shapes, and 
would have taken to their heels at once. For one of 
the hardest things in this world is to see the difference 
between real dangers and imaginary ones. 

But, as Hercules held on so stubbornly, and only 
squeezed the Old One so much the tighter at every change 
of shape, and really put him to no small torture, he 
finally thought it best to reappear in his own figure. So 
there he was again, a fishy, scaly, web-footed sort of 
personage, with something like a tuft of seaweed at his 
chin. 

“Pray, what do you want with me?” cried the Old 
One, as soon as he could take breath; for it is quite a 
tiresome affair to go through so many false shapes. 
“Why do you squeeze me so hard? Let me go this 
moment, or I shall begin to consider you an extremely 
uncivil person!” 

“My name is Hercules!” roared the mighty stranger. 
“And you will never get out of my clutch until you tell 
me the nearest way to the garden of the Hesperides!” 


The Three Golden Apples 


IS 


When the old fellow heard who it was that had caught 
him, he saw with half an eye that it would be necessary 
to tell him everything that he wanted to know. The 
Old One was an inhabitant of the sea, you must recol- 
lect, and roamed about everywhere, like other sea- 
faring people. Of course, he had often heard of the 
fame of Hercules, and of the wonderful things that he 
was constantly performing in various parts of the earth, 
and how determined he always was to accomplish what- 
ever he undertook. He therefore made no more attempts 
to escape, but told the hero how to find the garden of 
the Hesperides, and likewise warned him of many 
difficulties which must be overcome before he could 
arrive thither. 

“You must go on, thus and thus,” said the Old 
Man of the Sea, after taking the points of the com- 
pass, “till you come in sight of a very tall giant, who 
holds the sky on his shoulders. And the giant, if he 
happens to be in the humour, will tell you exactly where 
the garden of the Hesperides lies.” 

“And if the giant happens not to be in the humour,” 
remarked Hercules, balancing his club on the tip of 
his finger, “perhaps I shall find means to persuade 
him!” 

Thanking the Old Man of the Sea, and begging his 
pardon for having squeezed him so roughly, the hero 
resumed his journey. He met with a great many strange 
adventures, which would be well worth your hearing, 
if I had leisure to narrate them as minutely as they 
deserve. 

It was in this journey, if I mistake not, that he en- 
countered a prodigious giant, who was so wonderfully 
contrived by nature that, every time he touched the 


1 6 Myths Every Child Should Know 

earth, he became ten times as strong as ever he had 
been before. His name was Antaeus. You may see, 
plainly enough, that it was a very difficult business 
to fight with such a fellow; for, as often as he got a 
knock-down blow, up he started again, stronger, fiercer, 
and abler to use his weapons than if his enemy had 
let him alone. Thus, the harder Hercules pounded 
the giant with his club, the further he seemed from 
winning the victory. I have sometimes argued with 
such people, but never fought with one. The only 
way in which Hercules found it possible to finish the 
battle was by lifting Antaeus off his feet into the air, 
and squeezing, and squeezing, and squeezing him until, 
finally, the strength was quite squeezed out of his enor- 
mous body. 

When this affair was finished, Hercules continued his 
travels, and went to the land of Egypt, where he was 
taken prisoner, and would have been put to death if 
he had not slain the king of the country and made his 
escape. Passing through the deserts of Africa, and 
going as fast as he could, he arrived at last on the shore 
of the great ocean. And here, unless he could walk 
on the crests of the billows, it seemed as if his journey 
must needs be at an end. 

Nothing was before him, save the foaming, dashing, 
measureless ocean. But, suddenly, as he looked toward 
the horizon, he saw something, a great way off, which 
he had not seen the moment before. It gleamed very 
brightly, almost as you may have beheld the round, 
golden disc of the sun, when it rises or sets over the 
edge of the world. It evidently drew nearer; for, 
at every instant, this wonderful object became larger 
and more lustrous. At length, it had come so nigh 


The Three Golden Apples 


*7 


that Hercules discovered it to be an immense cup or 
bowl, made either of gold or burnished brass. How 
it had got afloat upon the sea is more than I can tell 
you. There it was, at all events, rolling on the tumultu- 
ous billows, which tossed it up and down, and heaved 
their foamy tops against its sides, but without ever 
throwing their spray over the brim. 

“I have seen many giants, in my time,’ , thought 
Hercules, “but never one that would need to drink 
his wine out of a cup like this!” 

And, true enough, what a cup it must have been! 
It was as large — as large — but, in short, I am afraid 
to say how immeasurably large it was. To speak 
within bounds, it was ten times larger than a great 
mill wheel; and, all of metal as it was, it floated over 
the heaving surges more lightly than an acorn cup 
adown the brook. The waves tumbled it onward, until 
it grazed against the shore, within a short distance of 
the spot where Hercules was standing. 

As soon as this happened, he knew what was to be 
done; for he had not gone through so many remark- 
able adventures without learning pretty well how to 
conduct himself, whenever anything came to pass a 
little out of the common rule. It was just as clear as 
daylight that this marvellous cup had been set adrift 
by some unseen power, and guided hitherward, in 
order to carry Hercules across the sea, on his way to 
the garden of the Hesperides. Accordingly, without 
a moment’s delay, he clambered over the brim, and 
slid down on the inside, where, spreading out his lion’s 
skin, he proceeded to take a little repose. He had 
scarcely rested, until now, since he bade farewell to 
the damsels on the margin of the river. The waves 


1 8 Myths Every Child Should Know 

dashed, with a pleasant and ringing sound, against the 
circumference of the hollow cup; it rocked lightly to 
and fro, and the motion was so soothing that it speed- 
ily rocked Hercules into an agreeable slumber. 

His nap had probably lasted a good while, when 
the cup chanced to graze against a rock, and, in con- 
sequence, immediately resounded and reverberated 
through its golden or brazen substance, a hundred 
times as loudly as ever you heard a church bell. The 
noise awoke Hercules, who instantly started up and 
gazed around him, wondering whereabouts he was. 
He was not long in discovering that the cup had floated 
across a great part of the sea, and was approaching 
the shore of what seemed to be an island. And, on 
that island, what do you think he saw? 

No; you will never guess it, not if you were to try 
fifty thousand times! It positively appears to me that 
this was the most marvellous spectacle that had ever been 
seen by Hercules in the whole course of his wonderful 
travels and adventures. It was a greater marvel than 
the hydra with nine heads, which kept growing twice 
as fast as they were cut off; greater than the six-legged 
man monster; greater than Antaeus; greater than any- 
thing that was ever beheld by anybody, before or since 
the days of Hercules, or than anything that remains to 
be beheld by travellers in all time to come. It was a 
giant ! 

But such an intolerably big giant! A giant as tall 
as a mountain; so vast a giant that the clouds rested 
about his midst, like a girdle, and hung like a hoary 
beard from his chin, and flitted before his huge eyes, 
so that he could neither see Hercules nor the golden 
cup in which he was voyaging. And, most wonderful 


The Three Golden Apples 


19 


of all, the giant held up his great hands and appeared 
to support the sky, which, so far as Hercules could 
discern through the clouds, was resting upon his head! 
This does really seem almost too much to believe. 

Meanwhile, the bright cup continued to float onward, 
and finally touched the strand. Just then a breeze wafted 
away the clouds from before the giant’s visage, and 
Hercules beheld it, with all its enormous features; eyes 
each of them as big as yonder lake, a nose a mile long, 
and a mouth of the same width. It was a countenance 
terrible from its enormity of size, but disconsolate and 
weary, even as you may see the faces of many people, 
nowadays, who are compelled to sustain burdens above 
their strength. What the sky was to the giant, such 
are the cares of earth to those who let themselves be 
weighed down by them. And whenever men undertake 
what is beyond the just measure of their abilities, they 
encounter precisely such a doom as had befallen this poor 
giant. 

Poor fellow! He had evidently stood there a long 
while. An ancient forest had been growing and decay- 
ing around his feet; and oak trees, of six or seven cen- 
turies old, had sprung from the acorn, and forced them- 
selves between his toes. 

The giant now looked down from the far height of 
his great eyes, and, perceiving Hercules, roared out, in 
a voice that resembled thunder, proceeding out of the 
cloud that had just flitted away from his face. 

“Who are you, down at my feet there? And whence 
do you come in that little cup?” 

“I am Hercules!” thundered back the hero, in a 
voice pretty nearly or quite as loud as the giant’s own. 
“And I am seeking for the garden of the Hesperides!” 


20 , Myths Every Child Should Know 

“Ho! ho! ho!” roared the giant, in a fit of immense 
laughter. “That is a wise adventure, truly!” 

“And why not?” cried Hercules, getting a little angry 
at the giant’s mirth. “Do you think I am afraid of the 
dragon with a hundred heads!” 

Just at this time, while they were talking together, 
some black clouds gathered about the giant’s middle, 
and burst into a tremendous storm of thunder and light- 
ning, causing such a pother that Hercules found it 
impossible to distinguish a word. Only the giant’s 
immeasurable legs were to be seen, standing up into 
the obscurity of the tempest; and, now and then, a 
momentary glimpse of his whole figure, mantled in a 
volume of mist. He seemed to be speaking, most of 
the time; but his big, deep, rough voice chimed in with 
the reverberations of the thunder claps, and rolled away 
over the hills, like them. Thus, by talking out of season, 
the foolish giant expended an incalculable quantity of 
breath to no purpose; for the thunder spoke quite as 
intelligibly as he. 

At last, the storm swept over as suddenly as it had 
come. And there again was the clear sky, and the 
weary giant holding it up, and the pleasant sunshine 
beaming over his vast height, and illuminating it against 
the background of the sullen thunder clouds. So far 
above the shower had been his head, that not a hair of 
it was moistened by the rain-drops J 

When the giant could see Hercules still standing on 
the seashore, he roared out to him anew. 

“I am Atlas, the mightiest giant in the world! And 
I hold the sky upon my head!” 

“So I see,” answered Hercules. “But, can you 
show me the way to the garden of the Hesperides?” 


The Three Golden Apples 


21 


“What do you want there?” asked the giant. 

“I want three of the golden apples,” shouted Hercules, 
“for my cousin, the king.” 

“There is nobody but myself,” quoth the giant, 
“that can go to the garden of the Hesperides, and gather 
the golden apples. If it were not for this little business 
of holding up the sky, I would make half a dozen steps 
across the sea and get them for you.” 

“You are very kind,” replied Hercules. “And can- 
not you rest the sky upon a mountain?” 

“None of them are quite high enough,” said Atlas, 
shaking his head. “But if you were to take your stand 
on the summit of that nearest one, your head would be 
pretty nearly on a level with mine. You seem to be a 
fellow of some strength. What if you should take my bur- 
den on your shoulders, while I do your errand for you?” 

Hercules, as you must be careful to remember, was 
a remarkably strong man; and though it certainly re- 
quires a great deal of muscular power to uphold the 
sky, yet, if any mortal could be supposed capable of 
such an exploit, he was the one. Nevertheless, it seemed 
so difficult an undertaking that, for the first time in his 
life, he hesitated. 

“Is the sky very heavy?” he inquired. 

“Why, not particularly so, at first,” answered the 
giant, shrugging his shoulders. “But it gets to be a 
little burdensome after a thousand years!” 

“And how long a time,” asked the hero, “will it take 
you to get the golden apples?” 

“Oh, that will be done in a few moments,” cried 
Atlas. “I shall take ten or fifteen miles at a stride, and 
be at the garden and back again before your shoulders 
begin to ache.” 


22 Myths Every Child Should Know 

“Well, then,” answered Hercules, “I will climb the 
mountain behind you there and relieve you of your 
burden.” 

The truth is, Hercules had a kind heart of his own, 
and considered that he should be doing the giant a 
favour by allowing him this opportunity for a ramble. 
And, besides, he thought that it would be still more 
for his own glory if he could boast of upholding the 
sky, than merely to do so ordinary a thing as to con- 
quer a dragon with a hundred heads. Accordingly, 
without more words, the sky was shifted from the shoul- 
ders of Atlas and placed upon those of Hercules. 

When this was safely accomplished, the first thing 
that the giant did was to stretch himself; and you may 
imagine what a prodigious spectacle he was then. Next, 
he slowly lifted one of his feet out of the forest that had 
grown up around it; then, the other. Then, all at once, 
he began to caper, and leap, and dance for joy at his 
freedom; flinging himself nobody knows how high into 
the air, and floundering down again with a shock that 
made the earth tremble. Then he laughed — Hoi ho! 
ho! — with a thunderous roar that was echoed from the 
mountains, far and near, as if they and the giant had 
been so many rejoicing brothers. When his joy had a 
little subsided, he stepped into the sea; ten miles at the 
first stride, which brought him midleg deep; and ten 
miles at the second, when the water came just above 
his knees; and ten miles more at the third, by which he 
was immersed nearly to his waist. This was the great- 
est depth of the sea. 

Hercules watched the giant as he still went onward; 
for it was really a wonderful sight, this immense human 
form, more than thirty miles off, half hidden in the 


The Three Golden Apples 


2 3 


ocean, but with his upper half as tall, and misty, and 
blue as a distant mountain. At last the gigantic shape 
faded entirely out of view. And now Hercules began 
to consider what he should do in case Atlas should be 
drowned in the sea, or if he were to be stung to death 
by the dragon with the hundred heads, which guarded 
the golden apples of the Hesperides. If any such mis- 
fortune were to happen, how could he ever get rid of the 
sky? And, by the by, its weight began already to be 
a little irksome to his head and shoulders. 

“I really pity the poor giant,” thought Hercules. “If 
it wearies me so much in ten minutes, how must it have 
wearied him in a thousand years!” 

O my sweet little people, you have no idea what a 
weight there was in that same blue sky, which looks 
so soft and aerial above our heads! And there, too, 
was the bluster of the wind, and the chill and watery 
clouds, and the blazing sun, all taking their turns to 
make Hercules uncomfortable! He began to be afraid 
that the giant would never come back. He gazed 
wistfully at the world beneath him, and acknowledged 
to himself that it was a far happier kind of life to be 
a shepherd at the foot of a mountain than to stand on 
its dizzy summit and bear up the firmament with his 
might and main. For, of course, as you will easily 
understand, Hercules had an immense responsibility 
on his mind, as well as a weight on his head and shoul- 
ders. Why, if he did not stand perfectly still, and keep 
the sky immovable, the sun would perhaps be put ajar! 
Or, after nightfall, a great many of the stars might be 
loosened from their places, and shower down, like fiery 
rain, upon the people’s heads! And how ashamed would 
the hero be if, owing to his unsteadiness beneath its 


24 Myths Every Child Should Know 

weight, the sky should crack and show a great fissure 
quite across it! 

I know not how long it was before, to his unspeak- 
able joy, he beheld the huge shape of the giant, like a 
cloud, on the far-off edge of the sea. At his nearer 
approach, Atlas held up his hand, in which Hercules 
could perceive three magnificent golden apples, as big 
as pumpkins, all hanging from one branch. 

“I am glad to see you again,” shouted Hercules, 
when the giant was within hearing. “So you have got 
the golden apples?” 

“Certainly, certainly,” answered Atlas; “and very 
fair apples they are. I took the finest that grew on 
the tree, I assure you. Ah! it is a beautiful spot, that 
garden of Hesperides. Yes; and the dragon with a 
hundred heads is a sight worth any man’s seeing. After 
all, you had better have gone for the apples yourself.” 

“No matter,” replied Hercules. “You have had a 
pleasant ramble, and have done the business as well as 
I could. I heartily thank you for your trouble. And 
now, as I have a long way to go, and am rather in haste — 
and as the king, my cousin, is anxious to receive the 
golden apples — will you be kind enough to take the sky 
off my shoulders again?” 

“Why, as to that,” said the giant, chucking the golden 
apples into the air twenty miles high, or thereabouts and 
catching them as they came down — “as to that, my good 
friend, I consider you a little unreasonable. Cannot I 
carry the golden apples to the king, your cousin, much 
quicker than you could? As His Majesty is in such a 
hurry to get them, I promise you to take my longest 
strides. And, besides, I have no fancy for burdening 
myself with the sky, just now,” 


The Three Golden Apples 


2 5 


Here Hercules grew impatient, and gave a great shrug 
of his shoulders. It being now twilight, you might have 
seen two or three stars tumble out of their places. Every- 
body on earth looked upward in affright, thinking that 
the sky might be going to fall next. 

“Oh, that will never do! ,, cried Giant Atlas, with a 
great roar of laughter. “I have not let fall so many stars 
within the last five centuries. By the time you have stood 
there as long as I did, you will begin to learn patience !” 

“What!” shouted Hercules, very wrathfully, “do you 
intend to make me bear this burden forever?” 

“We will see about that, one of these days,” answered 
the giant. “At all events, you ought not to complain if 
you have to bear it the next hundred years, or perhaps 
the next thousand. I bore it a good while longer, in 
spite of the backache. Well, then, after a thousand years, 
if I happen to feel in the mood, we may possibly shift 
about again. You are certainly a very strong man, and 
can never have a better opportunity to prove it. Pos- 
terity will talk of you, I warrant it!” 

“Pish! a fig for its talk!” cried Hercules, with another 
hitch of his shoulders. “Just take the sky upon your 
head one instant, will you? I want to make a cushion 
of my lion’s skin, for the weight to rest upon. It really 
chafes me, and will cause unnecessary inconvenience in 
so many centuries as I am to stand here.” 

“That’s no more than fair, and I’ll do it!” quoth the 
giant; for he had no unkind feeling toward Hercules, 
and was merely acting with a too selfish consideration 
of his own ease. “For just five minutes, then, I’ll take 
back the sky. Only for five minutes, recollect! I have 
no idea of spending another thousand years as I spent 
the last. Variety is the spice of life, say I.” 


26 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


Ah, the thick-witted old rogue of a giant! He threw 
down the golden apples, and received back the sky from 
the head and shoulders of Hercules, upon his own, where 
it rightly belonged. And Hercules picked up the three 
golden apples, that were as big or bigger than pumpkins 
and straightway set out on his journey homeward, with- 
out paying the slightest heed to the thundering tones of 
the giant, who bellowed after him to come back. Another 
forest sprang up around his feet, and grew ancient there; 
and again might be seen oak trees, of six or seven centuries 
old, that had waxed thus aged betwixt his enormous toes. 

And there stands the giant to this day; or, at any rate, 
there stands a mountain as tall as he, and which bears his 
name; and when the thunder rumbles about its summit, 
we may imagine it to be the voice of Giant Atlas, bellowing 
after Hercules! 


CHAPTER II 


THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS 

Mother Ceres was exceedingly fond of her daughter 
Proserpina, and seldom let her go alone into the fields. 
But, just at the time when my story begins, the good lady 
was very busy, because she had the care of the wheat, 
and the Indian corn, and the rye and barley, and, in 
short, of the crops of every kind, all over the earth; and 
as the season had thus far been uncommonly backward, 
it was necessary to make the harvest ripen more speedily 
than usual. So she put on her turban, made of poppies 
(a kind of flower which she was always noted for wearing) 
and got into her car drawn by a pair of winged dragons, 
and was just ready to set off. 

“Dear mother,” said Proserpina, “I shall be very 
lonely while you are away. May I not run down to the 
shore, and ask some of the sea nymphs to come up out of 
the waves and play with me?” 

“Yes, child,” answered Mother Ceres. “The sea 
nymphs are good creatures, and will never lead you into 
any harm. But you must take care not to stray away 
from them, nor go wandering about the fields by your- 
self. Young girls, without their mothers to take care of 
them, are very apt to get into mischief.” 

The child promised to be as prudent as if she were a 
grown-up woman, and, by the time the winged dragons 
had whirled the car out of sight, she was already on the 
27 


28 Myths Every Child Should Know 

shore, calling to the sea nymphs to come and play with 
her. They knew Proserpina’s voice, and were not long 
in showing their glistening faces and sea-green hair above 
the water, at the bottom of which was their home. They 
brought along with them a great many beautiful shells; 
and, sitting down on the moist sand, where the surf wave 
broke over them, they busied themselves in making a 
necklace, which they hung round Proserpina’s neck. 
By way of showing her gratitude, the child besought 
them to go with her a little way into the fields, so that 
they might gather abundance of flowers, with which she 
would make each of her kind playmates a wreath. 

“Oh, no, dear Proserpina,” cried the sea nymphs; 
“we dare not go with you upon the dry land. We are 
apt to grow faint, unless at every breath we can snuff 
up the salt breeze of the ocean. And don’t you see how 
careful we are to let the surf wave break over us every 
moment or two, so as to keep ourselves comfortably 
moist ? If it were not for that, we should soon look like 
bunches of uprooted seaweed dried in the sun.” 

“It is a great pity,” said Proserpina. “But do you 
wait for me here, and I will run and gather my apron 
full of flowers, and be back again before the surf wave 
has broken ten times over you. I long to make you 
some wreaths that shall be as lovely as this necklace of 
many-coloured shells.” 

“We will wait, then,” answered the sea nymphs. 
“But while you are gone, we may as well lie down on a 
bank of soft sponge, under the water. The air to-day 
is a little too dry for our comfort. But we will pop up 
our heads every few minutes to see if you are coming.” 

The young Proserpina ran quickly to a spot where, 
only the day before, she had seen a great many flowers. 


The Pomegranate Seeds 


29 


These, however, were now a little past their bloom; and 
wishing to give her friends the freshest and loveliest 
blossoms, she strayed farther into the fields, and found 
some that made her scream with delight. Never had 
she met with such exquisite flowers before — violets, so 
large and fragrant — roses, with so rich and delicate a 
blush — such superb hyacinths and such aromatic pinks 
— and many others, some of which seemed to be of new 
shapes and colours. Two or three times, moreover, she 
could not help thinking that a tuft of most splendid 
flowers had suddenly sprouted out of the earth before 
her very eyes, as if on purpose to tempt her a few steps 
farther. Proserpina’s apron was soon filled and brim- 
ming over with delightful blossoms. She was on the 
point of turning back in order to rejoin the sea nymphs, 
and sit with them on the moist sands, all twining wreaths 
together. But, a little farther on, what should she 
behold? It was a large shrub, completely covered with 
the most magnificent flowers in the world. 

“The darlings!” cried Proserpina; and then she 
thought to herself, “I was looking at that spot only a 
moment ago. How strange it is that I did not see the 
flowers!” 

The nearer she approached the shrub, the more at- 
tractive it looked, until she came quite close to it; and 
then, although its beauty was richer than words can tell, 
she hardly knew whether to like it or not. It bore above 
a hundred flowers of the most brilliant hues, and each dif- 
ferent from the others, but all having a kind of resemblance 
among themselves, which showed them to be sister blos- 
soms. But there was a deep, glossy lustre on the leaves 
of the shrub, and on the petals of the flowers, that made 
Proserpina doubt whether they might not be poisonous. 


3 ° 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


To tell you the truth, foolish as it may seem, she was half 
inclined to turn round and run away. 

“What a silly child lam!” thought she, taking courage. 
“It is really the most beautiful shrub that ever sprang 
out of the earth. I will pull it up by the roots, and carry 
it home, and plant it in my mother’s garden.” 

Holding up her apron full of flowers with her left hand, 
Proserpina seized the large shrub with the other, and 
pulled and pulled, but was hardly able to loosen the soil 
about its roots. What a deep-rooted plant it was ! Again 
the girl pulled with all her might, and observed that the 
earth began to stir and crack to some distance around the 
stem. She gave another pull, but relaxed her hold, 
fancying that there was a rumbling sound right beneath 
her feet. Did the roots extend down into some enchanted 
cavern? Then, laughing at herself for so childish a 
notion, she made another effort; up came the shrub, 
and Proserpina staggered back, holding the stem triumph- 
antly in her hand, and gazing at the deep hole which its 
roots had left in the soil. 

Much to her astonishment, this hole kept spreading 
wider and wider, and growing deeper and deeper, until it 
really seemed to have no bottom; and all the while, there 
came a rumbling noise out of its depths, louder and 
louder, and nearer and nearer, and sounding like the 
tramp of horses’ hoofs and the rattling of wheels. Too 
much frightened to run away, she stood straining her 
eyes into this wonderful cavity, and soon saw a team of 
four sable horses, snorting smoke out of their nostrils, 
and tearing their way out of the earth with a splendid 
golden chariot whirling at their heels. They leaped out 
of the bottomless hole, chariot and all; and there they 
were, tossing their black manes, flourishing their black 


The Pomegranate Seeds 


3i 


tails, and curveting with every one of their hoofs off the 
ground at once, close by the spot where Proserpina stood. 
In the chariot sat the figure of a man, richly dressed, with 
a crown on his head, all flaming with diamonds. He 
was of a noble aspect, and rather handsome, but looked 
sullen and discontented; and he kept rubbing his eyes 
and shading them with his hand, as if he did not live 
enough in the sunshine to be very fond of its light. 

As soon as this personage saw the affrighted Proserpina, 
he beckoned her to come a little nearer. 

“Do not be afraid, ” said he, with as cheerful a smile as 
he knew how to put on. “Come! Will not you like to 
ride a little way with me, in my beautiful chariot?” 

But Proserpina was so alarmed that she wished for 
nothing but to get out of his reach. And no wonder. 
The stranger did not look remarkably good-natured, in 
spite of his smile; and as for his voice, its tones were deep 
and stern, and sounded as much like the rumbling of an 
earthquake under ground as anything else. As is always 
the case with children in trouble, Proserpina’s first thought 
was to call for her mother. 

“Mother, Mother Ceres!” cried she, all in a tremble. 
“Come quickly and save me.” 

But her voice was too faint for her mother to hear. 
Indeed, it is most probable that Ceres was then a thou- 
sand miles off, making the corn grow in some far-distant 
country. Nor could it have availed her poor daughter, 
even had she been within hearing; for no sooner did 
Proserpina begin to cry out than the stranger leaped to 
the ground, caught the child in his arms, and again mount- 
ing the chariot, shook the reins, and shouted to the four 
black horses to set off. They immediately broke into so 
swift a gallop that it seemed rather like flying through the 


3 * 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


air than running along the earth. In a moment, Proser- 
pina lost sight of the pleasant vale of Enna, in which she 
had always dwelt. Another instant, and even the sum- 
mit of Mount iEtna had become so blue in the distance 
that she could scarcely distinguish it from the smoke that 
gushed out of its crater. But still the poor child screamed 
and scattered her apron full of flowers along the way, and 
and left a long cry trailing behind the chariot; and many 
mothers, to whose ears it came, ran quickly to see if any 
mischief had befallen their children. But Mother Ceres 
was a great way off, and could not hear the cry. 

As they rode on, the stranger did his best to soothe her. 

“Why should you be so frightened, my pretty child ?” 
said he, trying to soften his rough voice. “I promise 
not to do you any harm. What! You have been gather- 
ing flowers ? Wait till we come to my palace, and I will 
give you a garden full of prettier flowers than those, all 
made of pearls, and diamonds, and rubies. Can you 
guess who I am? They call my name Pluto, and I am 
the king of diamonds and all other precious stones. 
Every atom of the gold and silver that lies under the earth 
belongs to me, to say nothing of the copper and iron, and 
of the coal mines, which supply me with abundance of 
fuel. Do you see this splendid crown upon my head? 
You may have it for a plaything. Oh, we shall be very 
good friends, and you will find me more agreeable than 
you expect, when once we get out of this troublesome sun- 
shine.’ J 

“Let me go home!” cried Proserpina — “let me go 
home!” 

“My home is better than your mother’s,” answered 
King Pluto. “It is a palace, all made of gold, with 
crystal windows; and because there is little or no sun- 


The Pomegranate Seeds 


33 


shine thereabouts, the apartments are illuminated with 
diamond lamps. You never saw anything half so mag- 
nificent as my throne. If you like, you may sit down on 
it, and be my little queen, and I will sit on the footstool.’’ 

“I don’t care for golden palaces and thrones,” sobbed 
Proserpina. “Oh, my mother, my mother! Carry me 
back to my mother!” 

But King Pluto, as he called himself, only shouted to 
his steeds to go faster. 

“Pray do not be foolish, Proserpina,” said he, in rather 
a sullen tone. “I offer you my palace and my crown, 
and all the riches that are under the earth; and you treat 
me as if I were doing you an injury. The one thing 
which my palace needs is a merry little maid, to run up 
stairs and down, and cheer up the rooms with her smile. 
And this is what you must do for King Pluto.” 

“Never!” answered Proserpina, looking as miserable 
as she could. “I shall never smile again till you set me 
down at my mother’s door.” 

But she might just as well have talked to the wind that 
whistled past them; for Pluto urged on his horses, and 
went faster than ever. Proserpina continued to cry out, 
and screamed so long and so loudly that her poor little 
voice was almost screamed away; and when it was 
nothing but a whisper, she happened to cast her eyes 
over a great, broad field of waving grain — and whom do 
you think she saw? Whom but Mother Ceres, making 
the corn grow, and too busy to notice the golden chariot 
as it went rattling along. The child mustered all her 
strength, and gave one more scream, but was out of sight 
before Ceres had time to turn her head. 

King Pluto had taken a road which now began to grow 
excessively gloomy. It was bordered on each side with 


34 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


rocks and precipices, between which the rumbling of the 
chariot wheels was reverbated with a noise like rolling 
thunder. The trees and bushes that grew in the crevices 
of the rocks had very dismal foliage; and by and by, 
although it was hardly noon, the air became obscured 
with a gray twilight. The black horses had rushed along 
so swiftly that they were already beyond the limits of the 
sunshine. But the duskier it grew, the more did Pluto’s 
visage assume an air of satisfaction. After all, he was 
not an ill-looking person, especially when he left off twist- 
ing his features into a smile that did not belong to them. 
Proserpina peeped at his face through the gathering dusk, 
and hoped that he might not be so very wicked as she at 
first thought him. 

“Ah, this twilight is truly refreshing,” said King Pluto, 
“after being so tormented with that ugly and impertinent 
glare of the sun. How much more agreeable is lamp- 
light or torchlight, more particularly when reflected from 
diamonds! It will be a magnificent sight when we get 
to my palace.” 

“Is it much farther?” asked Proserpina. “And will 
you carry me back when I have seen it ? ” 

“We will talk of that by and by,” answered Pluto. 
“We are just entering my dominions. Do you see that 
tall gateway before us? When we pass those gates, we 
are at home. And there lies my faithful mastiff at the 
threshold. Cerberus! Cerberus! Come hither, my good 
dog!” 

So saying, Pluto pulled at the reins, and stopped 
the chariot right between the tall, massive pillars of the 
gateway. The mastiff of which he had spoken got 
up from the threshold and stood on his hinder legs, 
so as to put his fore paws on the chariot wheel. But, 


The Pomegranate Seeds 


35 


my stars, what a strange dog it was! Why, he was a 
big, rough, ugly-looking monster, with three separate 
heads, and each of them fiercer than the two others; 
but, fierce as they were, King Pluto patted them all. 
He seemed as fond of his three-headed dog as if it had 
been a sweet little spaniel with silken ears and curly 
hair. Cerberus, on the other hand, was evidently 
rejoiced to see his master, and expressed his attachment, 
as other dogs do, by wagging his tail at a great rate. 
Proserpina’s eyes being drawn to it by its brisk motion, 
she saw that this tail was neither more nor less than a 
live dragon, with fiery eyes, and fangs that had a very 
poisonous aspect. And while the three-headed Cerberus 
was fawning so lovingly on King Pluto, there was the 
dragon tail wagging against its will, and looking as 
cross and ill-natured as you can imagine, on its own 
separate account. 

“Will the dog bite me?” asked Proserpina, shrinking 
closer to Pluto. “What an ugly creature he is!” 

“Oh, never fear,” answered her companion. “He 
never harms people, unless they try to enter my dominions 
without being sent for, or to get away when I wish to 
keep them here. Down, Cerberus! Now, my pretty 
Proserpina, we will drive on.” 

On went the chariot, and King Pluto seemed greatly 
pleased to find himself once more in his own kingdom. 
He drew Proserpina’s attention to the rich veins of 
gold that were to be seen among the rocks, and pointed 
to several places where one stroke of a pickaxe would 
loosen a bushel of diamonds. All along the road, indeed, 
there were sparkling gems which would have been of ines- 
timable value above ground, but which were here reckoned 
of the meaner sort and hardly worth a beggar’s stooping for. 


36 Myths Every Child Should Know 

Not far from the gateway they came to a bridge which 
seemed to be built of iron. Pluto stopped the chariot, 
and bade Proserpina look at the stream which was 
gliding so lazily beneath it. Never in her life had she 
beheld so torpid, so black, so muddy looking a stream: 
its waters reflected no images of anything that was on 
the banks, and it moved as sluggishly as if it had quite 
forgotten which way it ought to flow, and had rather 
stagnate than flow either one way or the other. 

“This is the river Lethe,” observed King Pluto. “Is 
it not a very pleasant stream ? ” 

“I think it a very dismal one,” said Proserpina. 

“It suits my taste, however,” answered Pluto, who 
was apt to be sullen when anybody disagreed with 
him. “At all events, its water has one very excellent 
quality; for a single draught of it makes people forget 
every care and sorrow that has hitherto tormented them. 
Only sip a little of it, my dear Proserpina, and you will 
instantly cease to grieve for your mother, and will have 
nothing in your memory that can prevent your being 
perfectly happy in my palace. I will send for some, 
in a golden goblet, the moment we arrive.” 

“Oh no, no, no!” cried Proserpina, weeping afresh. 
“I had a thousand times rather be miserable with remem- 
bering my mother, than be happy in forgetting her. 
That dear, dear mother! I never, never will forget 
her.” 

“We shall see,” said King Pluto. “You do not 
know what fine times we will have in my palace. Here 
we are just at the portal. These pillars are solid gold, 
I assure you.” 

He alighted from the chariot, and taking Proserpina 
in his arms, carried her up a lofty flight of steps into 


The Pomegranate Seeds 


37 


the great hall of the palace. It was splendidly illumin- 
ated by means of large precious stones of various hues, 
which seemed to burn like so many lamps and glowed 
with a hundred-fold radiance all through the vast apart- 
ment. And yet there was a kind of gloom in the midst 
of this enchanted light; nor was there a single object 
in the hall that was really agreeable to behold, except 
the little Proserpina herself, a lovely child, with one 
earthly flower which she had not let fall from her hand. 
It is my opinion that even King Pluto had never been 
happy in his palace, and that this was the true reason 
why he had stolen away Proserpina, in order that he 
might have something to love, instead of cheating his 
heart any longer with this tiresome magnificence. And 
though he pretended to dislike the sunshine of the upper 
world, yet the effect of the child’s presence, bedimmed 
as she was by her tears, was as if a faint and watery 
sunbeam had somehow or other found its way into the 
enchanted hall. 

Pluto now summoned his domestics, and bade them 
lose no time in preparing a most sumptuous banquet, 
and above all things not to fail of setting a golden beaker 
of the water of Lethe by Proserpina’s plate. 

“I will neither drink that nor anything else,” said 
Proserpina. “Nor will I taste a morsel of food, even 
if you keep me forever in your palace.” 

“I should be sorry for that,” replied King Pluto, 
patting her cheek; for he really wished to be kind, if 
he had only known how. “You are a spoiled child, I 
perceive, my little Proserpina; but when you see the 
nice things which my cook will make for you, your appe- 
tite will quickly come again.” 

Then, sending for the head cook, he gave strict orders 


38 Myths Every Child Should Know 

that all sorts of delicacies, such as young people are 
usually fond of, should be set before Proserpina. He 
had a secret motive in this; for, you are to understand, 
it is a fixed law that, when persons are carried off to 
the land of magic, if they once taste any food there, 
they can never get back to their friends. Now, if King 
Pluto had been cunning enough to offer Proserpina 
some fruit, or bread and milk (which was the simple 
fare to which the child had always been accustomed), 
it is very probable that she would soon have been tempted 
to eat it. But he left the matter entirely to his cook, 
who, like all other cooks, considered nothing fit to eat 
unless it were rich pastry, or highly seasoned meat, or 
spiced sweet cakes — things which Proserpina’s mother 
had never given her, and the smell of which quite took 
away her appetite, instead of sharpening it. 

But my story must now clamber out of King Pluto’s 
dominions, and see what Mother Ceres has been about 
since she was bereft of her daughter. We had a glimpse 
of her, as you remember, half hidden among the waving 
grain, while the four black steeds were swiftly whirling 
along the chariot in which her beloved Proserpina was 
so unwillingly borne away. You recollect, too, the loud 
scream which Proserpina gave, just when the chariot 
was out of sight. 

Of all the child’s outcries, this last shriek was the 
only one that reached the ears of Mother Ceres. She 
had mistaken the rumbling of the chariot wheels for a 
peal of thunder, and imagined that a shower was com- 
ing up, and that it would assist her in making the corn 
grow. But, at the sound of Proserpina’s shriek, she 
started, and looked about in every direction, not know- 
ing whence it came, but feeling almost certain that 


The Pomegranate Seeds 


39 


it was her daughter’s voice. It seemed so unaccount- 
able, however, that the girl should have strayed over 
so many lands and seas (which she herself could not 
have traversed without the aid of her winged dragons), 
that the good Ceres tried to believe that it must be the 
child of some other parent, and not her own darling 
Proserpina who had uttered this lamentable cry. Never- 
theless, it troubled her with a vast many tender fears, 
such as are ready to bestir themselves in every mother’s 
heart, when she finds it necessary to go away from her 
dear children without leaving them under the care of 
some maiden aunt, or other such faithful guardian. 
So she quickly left the field in which she had been so 
busy; and, as her work was not half done, the grain 
looked, next day, as if it needed both sun and rain, and 
as if it were blighted in the ear and had something the 
matter with its roots. 

The pair of dragons must have had very nimble 
wings; for, in less than an hour, Mother Ceres had 
alighted at the door of her home and found it empty. 
Knowing, however, that the child was fond of sporting 
on the seashore, she hastened thither as fast as she could, 
and there beheld the wet faces of the poor sea nymphs 
peeping over a wave. All this while, the good creatures 
had been waiting on the bank of sponge, and, once 
every half-minute or so, had popped up their four heads 
above water, to see if their playmate were yet coming 
back. When they saw Mother Ceres, they sat down 
on the crest of the surf wave, and let it toss them ashore 
at her feet. 

“Where is Proserpina?” cried Ceres. “Where is 
my child? Tell me, you naughty sea nymphs, have 
you enticed her under the sea?” 


40 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


“Oh, no, good Mother Ceres,” said the innocent sea 
nymphs, tossing back their green ringlets and looking 
her in the face. “We never should dream of such a 
thing. Proserpina has been at play with us, it is true; 
but she left us a long while ago, meaning only to run 
a little way upon the dry land and gather some flowers 
for a wreath. This was early in the day, and we have 
seen nothing of her since.” 

Ceres scarcely waited to hear what the nymphs had 
to say before she hurried off to make inquiries all through 
the neighbourhood. But nobody told her anything that 
could enable the poor mother to guess what had become 
of Proserpina. A fisherman, it is true, had noticed 
her little footprints in the sand, as he went homeward 
along the beach with a basket of fish; a rustic had seen 
the child stooping to gather flowers; several persons 
had heard either the rattling of chariot wheels or the 
rumbling of distant thunder; and one old woman, while 
plucking vervain and catnip, had heard a scream, but 
supposed it to be some childish nonsense, and therefore 
did not take the trouble to look up. The stupid people! 
It took them such a tedious while to tell the nothing that 
they knew, that it was dark night before Mother Ceres 
found out that she must seek her daughter elsewhere. 
So she lighted a torch, and set forth, resolving never to 
come back until Proserpina was discovered. 

In her haste and trouble of mind, she quite forgot 
her car and the winged dragons; or, it may be, she thought 
that she could follow up the search more thoroughly on 
foot. At all events, this was the way in which she 
began her sorrowful journey, holding her torch before 
her, and looking carefully at every object along the path. 
And as it happened, she had not gone far before she found 


The Pomegranate Seeds 


4i 


one of the magnificent flowers which grew on the shrub 
that Proserpina had pulled up. 

“Ha!” thought Mother Ceres, examining it by torch- 
light. “Here is mischief in this flower! The earth 
did not produce it by any help of mine, nor of its own 
accord. It is the work of enchantment, and is therefore 
poisonous; and perhaps it has poisoned my poor child.” 

But she put the poisonous flower in her bosom, not 
knowing whether she might ever find any other memo- 
rial of Proserpina. 

All night long, at the door of every cottage and farm- 
house, Ceres knocked and called up the weary labourers 
to inquire if they had seen her child; and they stood, 
gaping and half asleep, at the threshold, and answered 
her pityingly, and besought her to come in and rest. 
At the portal of every palace, too, she made so loud a 
summons that the menials hurried to throw open the 
gate, thinking that it must be some great king or queen, 
who would demand a banquet for supper and a stately 
chamber to repose in. And when they saw only a sad 
and anxious woman, with a torch in her hand and a 
wreath of withered poppies on her head, they spoke 
rudely, and sometimes threatened to set the dogs upon 
her. But nobody had seen Proserpina, nor could give 
Mother Ceres the least hint which way to seek her. 
Thus passed the night; and still she continued her 
search without sitting down to rest, or stopping to take 
food, or even remembering to put out the torch ; although 
first the rosy dawn, and then the glad light of the morning 
sun, made its red flame look thin and pale. But I won- 
der what sort of stuff this torch was made of; for it burned 
dimly through the day, and, at night, was as bright as 
ever, and never was extinguished by the rain or wind 


42 Myths Every Child Should Know 

in all the weary days and nights while Ceres was seeking 
for Proserpina. 

It was not merely of human beings that she asked 
tidings of her daughter. In the woods and by the 
streams she met creatures of another nature, who used, 
in those old times, to haunt the pleasant and solitary 
places, and were very sociable with persons who under- 
stood their language and customs, as Mother Ceres did. 
Sometimes, for instance, she tapped with her finger 
against the knotted trunk of a majestic oak; and imme- 
diately its rude bark would cleave asunder, and forth 
would step a beautiful maiden, who was the hamadryad 
of the oak, dwelling inside of it, and sharing its long life, 
and rejoicing when its green leaves sported with the 
breeze. But not one of these leafy damsels had seen 
Proserpina. Then, going a little farther, Ceres would, 
perhaps, come to a fountain gushing out of a pebbly 
hollow in the earth, and would dabble with her hand 
in the water. Behold, up through its sandy and pebbly 
bed, along with the fountain’s gush, a young woman 
with dripping hair would arise, and stand gazing at 
Mother Ceres, half out of the water, and undulating up 
and down with its ever-restless motion. But when the 
mother asked whether her poor lost child had stopped 
to drink out of the fountain, the naiad, with weeping eyes 
(for these water nymphs had tears to spare for every- 
body’s grief), would answer, “No!” in a murmuring 
voice, which was just like the murmur of the stream. 

Often, likewise, she encountered fauns, who looked 
like sunburnt country people, except that they had hairy 
ears, and little horns upon their foreheads, and the 
hinder legs of goats, on which they gambolled merrily 
about the woods and fields. , They were a frolicsome 


The Pomegranate Seeds 


43 


kind of creature, but grew as sad as their cheerful dis- 
positions would allow when Ceres inquired for her 
daughter, and they had no good news to tell. But some- 
times she came suddenly upon a rude gang of satyrs, who 
had faces like monkeys and horses’ tails behind them, 
and who were generally dancing in a very boisterous 
manner, with shouts of noisy laughter. When she 
stopped to question them, they would only laugh the 
louder and make new merriment out of the lone woman’s 
distress. How unkind of those ugly satyrs! And once, 
while crossing a solitary sheep pasture, she saw a per- 
sonage named Pan, seated at the foot of a tall rock and 
making music on a shepherd’s flute. He, too, had horns, 
and hairy ears, and goat’s feet; but, being acquainted 
with Mother Ceres, he answered her question as civilly 
as he knew how, and invited her to taste some milk and 
honey out of a wooden bowl. But neither could Pan 
tell her what had become of Proserpina, any better than 
the rest of these wild people. 

And thus Mother Ceres went wandering about for 
nine long days and nights, finding no trace of Proserpina, 
unless it were now and then a withered flower; and 
these she picked up and put in her bosom, because she 
fancied that they might have fallen from her poor child’s 
hand. All day she travelled onward through the hot 
sun; and at night, again, the flame of the torch would 
redden and gleam along the pathway, and she continued 
her search by its light, without ever sitting down to rest. 

On the tenth day, she chanced to espy the mouth of 
a cavern, within which (though it was bright noon every- 
where else) there would have been only a dusky twi- 
light; but it so happened that a torch was burning there. 
It flickered, and struggled with the duskiness, but could 


44 Myths Every Child Should Know 

not half light up the gloomy cavern with all its melan- 
choly glimmer. Ceres was resolved to leave no spot 
without a search; so she peeped into the entrance of 
the cave, and lighted it up a little more by holding her 
own torch before her. In so doing, she caught a glimpse 
of what seemed to be a woman, sitting on the brown 
leaves of the last autumn, a great heap of which had been 
swept into the cave by the wind. This woman (if 
woman it were) was by no means so beautiful as many 
of her sex; for her head, they tell me, was shaped very 
much like a dog’s, and, by way of ornament, she wore 
a wreath of snakes around it. But Mother Ceres, the 
moment she saw her, knew that this was an odd kind 
of a person, who put all her enjoyment in being miser- 
able, and never would have a word to say to other people, 
unless they were as melancholy and wretched as she 
herself delighted to be. 

“I am wretched enough now,” thought poor Ceres, 
“to talk with this melancholy Hecate, were she ten 
times sadder than ever she was yet.” 

So she stepped into the cave, and sat down on the 
withered leaves by the dog-headed woman’s side. In 
all the world, since her daughter’s loss, she had found 
no other companion. 

“O Hecate,” said she, “if ever you lose a daughter, 
you will know what sorrow is. Tell me, for pity’s sake, 
have you seen my poor child Proserpina pass by the 
mouth of your cavern?” 

“No,” answered Hecate, in a cracked voice, and 
sighing betwixt every word or two — “no, Mother Ceres, 
I have seen nothing of your daughter. But my ears, 
you must know, are made in such a way that all cries 
of distress and affright, all over the world, are pretty 


The Pomegranate Seeds 


45 


sure to find their way to them; and nine days ago, as I 
sat in my cave, making myself very miserable, I heard 
the voice of a young girl shrieking as if in great distress. 
Something terrible has happened to the child, you may 
rest assured. As well as I could judge, a dragon, or 
some other cruel monster, was carrying her away.” 

“You kill me by saying so,” cried Ceres, almost ready 
to faint. “Where was the sound, and which way did 
it seem to go?” 

“It passed very swiftly along,” said Hecate, “and, 
at the same time, there was a heavy rumbling of wheels 
toward the eastward. I can tell you nothing more, 
except that, in my honest opinion, you will never see 
your daughter again. The best advice I can give you 
is to take up your abode in this cavern, where we will 
be the two most wretched women in the world.” 

“Not yet, dark Hecate,” replied Ceres. “But do 
you first come with your torch, and help me to seek 
for my lost child. And when there shall be no more 
hope of finding her (if that black day is ordained to 
come), then, if you will give me room to fling myself 
down, either on these withered leaves or on the naked 
rock, I will show you what it is to be miserable. But, 
until I know that she has perished from the face of the 
earth, I will not allow myself space even to grieve.” 

The dismal Hecate did not much like the idea of 
going abroad into the sunny world. But then she 
reflected that the sorrow of the disconsolate Ceres would 
be like a gloomy twilight round about them both, let 
the sun shine ever so brightly, and that therefore she 
might enjoy her bad spirits quite as well as if she were 
to stay in the cave. So she finally consented to go, and 
they set out together, both carrying torches, although 




46 Myths Every Child Should Know 

it was broad daylight and clear sunshine. The torch- 
light seemed to make a gloom; so that the people whom 
they met along the road could not very distinctly see 
their figures; and, indeed, if they once caught a glimpse 
of Hecate, with the wreath of snakes round her forehead, 
they generally thought it prudent to run away without 
waiting for a second glance. 

As the pair travelled along in this woebegone manner, 
a thought struck Ceres. 

“There is one person,” she exclaimed, “who must 
have seen my poor child, and can doubtless tell what 
has become of her. Why did not I think of him before ? 
It is Phoebus.” 

“What,” said Hecate, “the young man that always 
sits in the sunshine? Oh, pray do not think of going 
near him. He is a gay, light, frivolous young fellow, 
and will only smile in your face. And besides, there 
is such a glare of the sun about him that he will quite 
blind my poor eyes, which I have almost wept away 
already.” 

“You have promised to be my companion,” answered 
Ceres. “Come, let us make haste, or the sunshine 
will be gone, and Phoebus along with it.” 

Accordingly, they went along in quest of Phoebus, both 
of them sighing grievously, and Hecate, to say the truth, 
making a great deal worse lamentation than Ceres; for 
all the pleasure she had, you know, lay in being miserable, 
and therefore she made the most of it. By and by, after 
a pretty long journey, they arrived at the sunniest spot 
in the whole world. There they beheld a beautiful young 
man, with long, curling ringlets, which seemed to be made 
of golden sunbeams; his garments were like light sum- 
mer clouds; and the expression of his face was so exceed- 


The Pomegranate Seeds 


47 


ingly vivid that Hecate held her hands before her eyes, 
muttering that he ought to wear a black veil. Phoebus 
(for this was the very person whom they were seeking) 
had a lyre in his hands, and was making its chords trem- 
ble with sweet music; at the same time singing a most 
exquisite song, which he had recently composed. For, 
besides a great many other accomplishments, this young 
man was renowned for his admirable poetry. 

As Ceres and her dismal companion approached him, 
Phoebus smiled on them so cheerfully that Hecate’s 
wreath of snakes gave a spiteful hiss, and Hecate heartily 
wished herself back in her cave. But as for Ceres, she 
was too earnest in her grief either to know or care whether 
Phoebus smiled or frowned. 

“Phoebus!” exclaimed she, “I am in great trouble, 
and have come to you for assistance. Can you tell me 
what has become of my dear child Proserpina?” 

“Proserpina! Proserpina, did you call her name?” 
answered Phoebus, endeavouring to recollect; for there 
was such a continual flow of pleasant ideas in his mind 
that he was apt to forget what had happened no longer 
ago than yesterday. “Ah, yes, I remember her now. A 
very lovely child, indeed. I am happy to tell you, my 
dear madam, that I did see the little Proserpina not many 
days ago. You may make yourself perfectly easy about 
her. She is safe, and in excellent hands.” 

“Oh, where is my dear child?” cried Ceres, clasping 
her hands and flinging herself at his feet. 

“Why,” said Phoebus — and as he spoke, he kept 
touching his lyre so as to make a thread of music run in 
and out among his words — “as the little damsel was 
gathering flowers (and she has really a very exquisite taste 
for flowers) she was suddenly snatched up by King Pluto 


48 Myths Every Child Should Know 

and carried off to his dominions. I have never been in 
that part of the universe; but the royal palace, I am told, 
is built in a very noble style of architecture, and of the 
most splendid and costly materials. Gold, diamonds, 
pearls, and all manner of precious stones will be your 
daughter’s ordinary playthings. I recommend to you, 
my dear lady, to give yourself no uneasiness. Proser- 
pina’s sense of beauty will be duly gratified, and, even in 
spite of the lack of sunshine, she will lead a very enviable 
life.” 

“Hush! Say not such a word!” answered Ceres, 
indignantly. “What is there to gratify her heart ? What 
are all the splendours you speak of, without affection ? I 
must have her back again. Will you go with me, Phoebus, 
to demand my daughter of this wicked Pluto ? ” 

“Pray excuse me,” replied Phoebus, with an elegant 
obeisance. “I certainly wish you success, and regret 
that my own affairs are so immediately pressing that I 
cannot have the pleasure of attending you. Besides, I 
am not upon the best of terms with King Pluto. To tell 
you the truth, his three-headed mastiff would never let me 
pass the gateway; for I should be compelled to take a 
sheaf of sunbeams along with me, and those, you know, 
are forbidden things in Pluto’s kingdom.” 

“Ah, Phoebus,” said Ceres, with bitter meaning in her 
words, “you have a harp instead of a heart. Farewell.” 

“Will not you stay a moment,” asked Phoebus, “and 
hear me turn the pretty and touching story of Proserpina 
into extemporary verses?” 

But Ceres shook her head, and hastened away, along 
with Hecate. Phoebus (who, as I have told you, was an 
exquisite poet) forthwith began to make an ode about the 
poor mother’s grief; and, if we were to judge of his sen- 


The Pomegranate Seeds 


49 


sibility by this beautiful production, he must have been 
endowed with a very tender heart. But when a poet 
gets into the habit of using his heartstrings to make chords 
for his lyre, he may thrum upon them as much as he will, 
without any great pain to himself. Accordingly, though 
Phoebus sang a very sad song, he was as merry all the 
while as were the sunbeams amid which he dwelt. 

Poor Mother Ceres had now found out what had be- 
come of her daughter, but was not a whit happier than 
before. Her case, on the contrary, looked more desper- 
ate than ever. As long as Proserpina was above ground 
there might have been hopes of regaining her. But now, 
that the poor child was shut up within the iron gates of 
the king of the mines, at the threshold of which lay the 
three-headed Cerberus, there seemed no possibility of 
her ever making her escape. The dismal Hecate, who 
loved to take the darkest view of things, told Ceres that 
she had better come with her to the cavern, and spend 
the rest of her life in being miserable. Ceres answered 
that Hecate was welcome to go back thither herself, but 
that, for her part, she would wander about the earth in 
quest of the entrance to King Pluto’s dominions. And 
Hecate took her at her word, and hurried back to her 
beloved cave, frightening a great many little children with 
a glimpse of her dog’s face as she went. 

Poor Mother Ceres! It is melancholy to think of her, 
pursuing her toilsome way all alone, and holding up that 
never-dying torch, the flame of which seemed an emblem 
of the grief and hope that burned together in her heart. 
So much did she suffer that, though her aspect had been 
quite youthful when her troubles began, she grew to look 
like an elderly person in a very brief time. She cared not 
how she was dressed, nor had she ever thought of flinging 


So 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


away the wreath of withered poppies which she put on 
the very morning of Proserpina’s disappearance. She 
roamed about in so wild a way, and with her hair so 
dishevelled, that people took her for some distracted 
creature, and never dreamed that this was Mother Ceres, 
who had the oversight of every seed which the husband- 
man planted. Nowadays, however, she gave herself no 
trouble about seed time nor harvest, but left the farmers 
to take care of their own affairs, and the crops to fade or 
flourish, as the case might be. There was nothing, now, 
in which Ceres seemed to feel an interest, unless when she 
saw children at play, or gathering flowers along the way- 
side. Then, indeed, she would stand and gaze at them 
with tears in her eyes. The children, too, appeared to 
have a sympathy with her grief, and would cluster them- 
selves in a little group about her knees, and look up 
wistfully in her face; and Ceres, after giving them 
a kiss all round, would lead them to their homes, and 
advise their mothers never to let them stray out of sight. 

“For if they do,” said she, “ it may happen to you, as it 
has to me, that the iron-hearted King Pluto will take a lik- 
ing to your darlings, and snatch them up in his chariot, 
and carry them away.” 

One day, during her pilgrimage in quest of the entrance 
to Pluto’s kingdom, she came to the palace of King Celeus, 
who reigned at Eleusis. Ascending a lofty flight of steps, 
she entered the portal, and found the royal household in 
very great alarm about the queen’s baby. The infant, 
it seems, was sickly (being troubled with its teeth, I sup- 
pose), and would take no food, and was all the time moan- 
ing with pain. The queen — her name was Metanira — 
was desirous of finding a nurse; and when she beheld a 
woman of matronly aspect coming up the palace steps. 


The Pomegranate Seeds 


Si 


she thought, in her own mind, that here was the very 
person whom she needed. So Queen Metanira ran to 
the door, with the poor wailing baby in her arms, and 
besought Ceres to take charge of it, or, at least, to tell her 
what would do it good. 

“Will you trust the child entirely to me?” asked Ceres. 

“Yes, and gladly, too,” answered the queen, “if you 
will devote all your time to him. For I can see that you 
have been a mother.” 

“You are right,” said Ceres. “I once had a child of 
my own. Well; I will be the nurse of this poor, sickly 
boy. But beware, I warn you, that you do not interfere 
with any kind of treatment which I may judge proper 
for him. If you do so, the poor infant must suffer for his 
mother’s folly.” 

Then she kissed the child, and it seemed to do him 
good; for he smiled and nestled closely into her bosom. 

So Mother Ceres set her torch in a corner (where it kept 
burning all the while), and took up her abode in the 
palace of King Celeus, as nurse to the little Prince Demo- 
phoon. She treated him as if he were her own child, 
and allowed neither the king nor the queen to say whether 
he should be bathed in warm or cold water, or what he 
should eat, or how often he should take the air, or when 
he should be put to bed. You would hardly believe me, 
if I were to tell how quickly the baby prince got rid of 
his ailments, and grew fat, and rosy, and strong, and 
how he had two rows of ivory teeth in less time than any 
other little fellow, before or since. Instead of the palest, 
and wretchedest, and puniest imp in the world (as his 
own mother confessed him to be when Ceres first took 
him in charge), he was now a strapping baby, crowing, 
laughing, kicking up his heels, and rolling from one end 


52 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


of the room to the other. All the good women of the 
neighbourhood crowded to the palace, and held up their 
hands, in unutterable amazement, at the beauty and 
wholesomeness of this darling little prince. Their won- 
der was the greater, because he was never seen to taste 
any food; not even so much as a cup of milk. 

“Pray, nurse,” the queen kept saying, “how is it that 
you make the child thrive so?” 

“I was a mother once,” Ceres always replied; “and 
having nursed my own child, I know what other children 
need.” 

But Queen Metanira, as was very natural, had a great 
curiosity to know precisely what the nurse did to her child. 
One night, therefore, she hid herself in the chamber where 
Ceres and the little prince were accustomed to sleep. 
There was a fire in the chimney, and it had now crumbled 
into great coals and embers, which lay glowing on the 
hearth, with a blaze flickering up now and then, and 
flinging a warm and ruddy light upon the walls. Ceres 
sat before the hearth with the child in her lap, and the fire- 
light making her shadow dance upon the ceiling overhead. 
She undressed the little prince, and bathed him all over 
with some fragrant liquid out of a vase. The next thing 
she did was to rake back the red embers, and make a 
hollow place among them, just where the backlog had 
been. At last, while the baby was crowing, and clapping 
its fat little hands, and laughing in the nurse’s face (just 
as you may have seen your little brother or sister do before 
going into its warm bath), Ceres suddenly laid him, all 
naked as he was, in the hollow among the red-hot embers. 
She then raked the ashes over him, and turned quietly 
away. 

You may imagine, if you can, how Queen Metanira 


The Pomegranate Seeds 


53 


shrieked, thinking nothing less than that her dear child 
would be burned to a cinder. She burst forth from her 
hiding place, and running to the hearth, raked open the 
fire, and snatched up poor little Prince Demophoon out 
of his bed of live coals, one of which he was griping in 
each of his fists. He immediately set up a grievous cry, 
as babies are apt to do when rudely startled out of a sound 
sleep. To the queen’s astonishment and joy, she could 
perceive no token of the child’s being injured by the hot 
fire in which he had lain. She now turned to Mother 
Ceres, and asked her to explain the mystery. 

“ Foolish woman,” answered Ceres, “did you not prom- 
ise to intrust this poor infant entirely to me? You little 
know the mischief you have done him. Had you left 
him to my care, he would have grown up like a child of 
celestial birth, endowed with superhuman strength and 
intelligence, and would have lived forever. Do you 
imagine that earthly children are to become immortal 
without being tempered to it in the fiercest heat of the 
fire? But you have ruined your own son. For though 
he will be a strong man and a hero in his day, yet, on 
account of your folly, he will grow old, and finally die, 
like the sons of other women. The weak tenderness of 
his mother has cost the poor boy an immortality. Fare- 
well.” 

Saying these words, she kissed the little Prince Demo- 
phoon, and sighed to think what he had lost, and took 
her departure without heeding Queen Metanira, who 
entreated her to remain, and cover up the child among 
the hot embers as often as she pleased. Poor baby ! He 
never slept so warmly again. 

While she dwelt in the king’s palace, Mother Ceres 
had been so continually occupied with taking care of the 


54 Myths Every Child Should Know 

young prince that her heart was a little lightened of its 
grief for Proserpina. But now, having nothing else to 
busy herself about, she became just as wretched as before. 
At length, in her despair, she came to the dreadful reso- 
lution that not a stalk of grain, nor a blade of grass, not a 
potato, nor a turnip, nor any other vegetable that was 
good for man or beast to eat, should be suffered to grow 
until her daughter were restored. She even forbade the 
flowers to bloom, lest somebody’s heart should be cheered 
by their beauty. 

Now, as not so much as a head of asparagus ever 
presumed to poke itself out of the ground without the 
especial permission of Ceres, you may conceive what 
a terrible calamity had here fallen upon the earth. 
The husbandmen ploughed and planted as usual; 
but there lay the rich black furrows, all as barren as a 
desert of sand. The pastures looked as brown in the 
sweet month of June as ever they did in chill November. 
The rich man’s broad acres and the cottager’s small 
garden patch were equally blighted. Every little girl’s 
flower bed showed nothing but dry stalks. The old 
people shook their white heads, and said that the earth 
had grown aged like themselves, and was no longer 
capable of wearing the warm smile of summer on its face. 
It was really piteous to see the poor, starving cattle and 
sheep, how they followed behind Ceres, lowing and 
bleating, as if their instinct taught them to expect help 
from her; and everybody that was acquainted with her 
power besought her to have mercy on the human race, 
and, at all events, to let the grass grow. But Mother 
Ceres, though naturally of an affectionate disposition, was 
now inexorable. 

“Never,” said she. “If the earth is ever again to see 


The Pomegranate Seeds 


55 

any verdure, it must first grow along the path which my 
daughter will tread in coming back to me.” 

Finally, as there seemed to be no other remedy, our 
old friend Quicksilver was sent post haste to King Pluto, 
in hopes that he might be persuaded to undo the mischief 
he had done, and to set everything right again by giving 
up Proserpina. Quicksilver accordingly made the best 
of his way to the great gate, took a flying leap right over 
the three-headed mastiff, and stood at the door of the 
palace in an inconceivably short time. The servants 
knew him both by his face and garb ; for his short cloak, 
and his winged cap and shoes, and his snaky staff had 
often been seen thereabouts in times gone by. He re- 
quested to be shown immediately into the king’s presence; 
and Pluto, who heard his voice from the top of the stairs, 
and who loved to recreate himself with Quicksilver’s 
merry talk, called out to him to come up. And while 
they settle their business together, we must inquire what 
Proserpina has been doing ever since we saw her last. 

The child had declared, as you may remember, that she 
would not taste a mouthful of food as long as she should 
be compelled to remain in King Pluto’s palace. How 
she contrived to maintain her resolution, and at the same 
time to keep herself tolerably plump and rosy is more 
than I can explain; but some young ladies, I am given to 
understand, possess the faculty of living on air, and 
Proserpina seems to have possessed it too. At any rate, 
it was now six months since she left the outside of the 
earth; and not a morsel, so far as the attendants were 
able to testify, had yet passed between her teeth. This 
was the more creditable to Proserpina, inasmuch as King 
Pluto had caused her to be tempted day after day with 
all manner of sweetmeats, and richly preserved fruits. 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


S6 

and delicacies of every sort, such as young people are 
generally most fond of. But her good mother had often 
told her of the hurtfulness of these things; and for that 
reason alone, if there had been no other, she would have 
resolutely refused to taste them. 

All this time, being of a cheerful and active disposition, 
the little damsel was not quite so unhappy as you may 
have supposed. The immense palace had a thousand 
rooms, and was full of beautiful and wonderful objects. 
There was a never-ceasing gloom, it is true, which half 
hid itself among the innumerable pillars, gliding before 
the child as she wandered among them, and treading 
stealthily behind her in the echo of her footsteps. Neither 
was all the dazzle of the precious stones, which flamed 
with their own light, worth one gleam of natural sunshine; 
nor could the most brilliant of the many-coloured gems, 
which Proserpina had for playthings, vie with the simple 
beauty of the flowers she used to gather. But still, 
wherever the girl went, among those gilded halls and 
chambers, it seemed as if she carried nature and sunshine 
along with her, and as if she scattered dewy blossoms on 
her right hand and on her left. After Proserpina came, 
the palace was no longer the same abode of stately 
artifice and dismal magnificence that it had before been. 
The inhabitants all felt this, and King Pluto more than 
any of them. 

“My own little Proserpina,” he used to say, “I wish 
you could like me a little better. We gloomy and 
cloudy-natured persons have often as warm hearts at 
bottom as those of a more cheerful character. If you 
would only stay with me of your own accord, it would 
make me happier than the possession of a hundred such 
palaces as this.” 


The Pomegranate Seeds 


57 


“Ah,” said Proserpina, “you should have tried to 
make me like you before carrying me off. And the 
best thing you can do now is to let me go again. Then 
I might remember you sometimes, and think that you 
were as kind as you knew how to be. Perhaps, too, 
one day or other, I might come back, and pay you a 
visit.” 

“No, no,” answered Pluto, with his gloomy smile, 
“I will not trust you for that. You are too fond of 
living in the broad daylight, and gathering flowers. 
What an idle and childish taste that is! Are not these 
gems, which I have ordered to be dug for you, and 
which are richer than any in my crown — are they not 
prettier than a violet?” 

“Not half so pretty,” said Proserpina, snatching the 
gems from Pluto’s hand, and flinging them to the other 
end of the hall. “Oh, my sweet violets, shall I never 
see you again?” 

And then she burst into tears. But young people’s 
tears have very little saltness or acidity in them, and 
do not inflame the eyes so much as those of grown persons; 
so that it is not to be wondered at if, a few moments after- 
ward, Proserpina was sporting through the hall almost 
as merrily as she and the four sea nymphs had sported 
along the edge of the surf wave. King Pluto gazed after 
her, and wished that he, too, was a child. And little 
Proserpina, when she turned about and beheld this great 
king standing in his splendid hall, and looking so grand, 
and so melancholy, and so lonesome, was smitten with a 
kind of pity. She ran back to him, and, for the first 
time in all her life, put her small soft hand in his. 

“I love you a little,” whispered she, looking up in his 
face. 


58 Myths Every Child Should Know 

“Do you, indeed, my dear child?” cried Pluto, bending 
his dark face down to kiss her; but Proserpina shrank 
away from the kiss, for though his features were noble, 
they were very dusky and grim. “Well, I have not 
deserved it of you, after keeping you a prisoner for so 
many months, and starving you, besides. Are you not 
terribly hungry ? Is there nothing which I can get you to 
eat?” 

In asking this question, the king of the mines had a 
very cunning purpose ; for, you will recollect, if Proserpina 
tasted a morsel of food in his dominions, she would never 
afterward be at liberty to quit them. 

“No, indeed,” said Proserpina. “Your head cook 
is always baking, and stewing, and roasting, and rolling 
out paste, and contriving one dish or another, which he 
imagines may be to my liking. But he might just as 
well save himself the trouble, poor, fat little man that he 
is. I have no appetite for anything in the world, unless 
it were a slice of bread of my mother’s own baking, or a 
little fruit out of her garden.” 

When Pluto heard this, he began to see that he had 
mistaken the best method of tempting Proserpina to 
eat. The cook’s made dishes and artificial dainties 
were not half so delicious in the good child’s opinion 
as the simple fare to which Mother Ceres had accus- 
tomed her. Wondering that he had never thought of 
it before, the king now sent one of his trusty attendants, 
with a large basket, to get some of the finest and juiciest 
pears, peaches and plums which could anywhere be found 
in the upper world. Unfortunately, however, this was 
during the time when Ceres had forbidden any fruits or 
vegetables to grow; and, after seeking all over the earth, 
King Pluto’s servant found only a single pomegranate, 


The Pomegranate Seeds 


59 


and that so dried up as to be not worth eating. Never- 
theless, since there was no better to be had, he brought 
this dry, old, withered pomegranate home to the palace, 
put it on a magnificent golden salver, and carried it up to 
Proserpina. Now it happened, curiously enough, that, 
just as the servant was bringing the pomegranate into 
the back door of the palace, our friend Quicksilver had 
gone up the front steps, on his errand to get Proserpina 
away from King Pluto. 

As soon as Proserpina saw the pomegranate on the 
golden salver, she told the servant he had better take 
it away again. 

“I shall not touch it, I assure you,” said she. ‘‘If 
I were ever so hungry, I should never think of eating 
such a miserable, dry pomegranate as that.” 

“It is the only one in the world,” said the servant. 
He set down the golden salver, with the wizened pome- 
granate upon it, and left the room. When he was 
gone, Proserpina could not help coming close to the 
table, and looking at this poor specimen of dried fruit 
with a great deal of eagerness; for, to say the truth, on 
seeing something that suited her taste, she felt all the 
six months’ appetite taking possession of her at once. 
To be sure, it was a very wretched looking pomegranate, 
and seemed to have no more juice in it than an oyster 
shell. But there was no choice of such things in King 
Pluto’s palace. This was the first fruit she had seen 
there, and the last she was ever likely to see; and unless 
she ate it up immediately, it would grow drier than it 
already was, and be wholly unfit to eat. 

“At least, I may smell it,” thought Proserpina. 

So she took up the pomegranate, and applied it to 
her nose; and, somehow or other, being in such close 


60 Myths Every Child Should Know 

neighbourhood to her mouth, the fruit found its way 
into that little red cave. Dear me! what an everlasting 
pity! Before Proserpina knew what she was about, 
her teeth had actually bitten it, of their own accord. Just 
as this fatal deed was done, the door of the apartment 
opened, and in came King Pluto, followed by Quicksilver, 
who had been urging him to let his little prisoner go. 
At the first noise of their entrance, Proserpina withdrew 
the pomegranate from her mouth. But Quicksilver 
(whose eyes were very keen, and his wits the sharpest 
that ever anybody had) perceived that the child was a 
little confused ; and seeing the empty salver, he suspected 
that she had been taking a sly nibble of something or 
other. As for honest Pluto, he never guessed at the 
secret. 

“My little Proserpina,” said the king, sitting down, 
and affectionately drawing her between his knees, 
“here is Quicksilver, who tells me that a great many 
misfortunes have befallen innocent people on account 
of my detaining you in my dominions. To confess 
the truth, I myself had already reflected that it was 
an unjustifiable act to take you away from your good 
mother. But, then, you must consider, my dear child, 
that this vast palace is apt to be gloomy (although the 
precious stones certainly shine very bright), and that 
I am not of the most cheerful disposition, and that 
therefore it was a natural thing enough to seek for the 
society of some merrier creature than myself. I hoped 
you would take my crown for a plaything, and me — 
ah, you laugh, naughty Proserpina — me, grim as I 
am, for a playmate. It was a silly expectation.” 

“Not so extremely silly, ” whispered Proserpina. 
“You have really amused me very much, sometimes.” 


The Pomegranate Seeds 


61 


“Thank you,” said King Pluto, rather dryly. “But 
I can see, plainly enough, that you think my palace a 
dusky prison, and me the iron-hearted keeper of it. 
And an iron heart I should surely have, if I could detain 
you here any longer, my poor child, when it is now six 
months since you tasted food. I give you your liberty. 
Go with Quicksilver. Hasten home to your dear 
mother.” 

Now, although you may not have supposed it, Proser- 
pina found it impossible to take leave of poor King 
Pluto without some regrets, and a good deal of com- 
punction for not telling him about the pomegranate. 
She even shed a tear or two, thinking how lonely and 
cheerless the great palace would seem to him, with all 
its ugly glare of artificial light, after she herself — his 
one little ray of natural sunshine, whom he had stolen, 
to be sure, but only because he valued her so much — 
after she should have departed. I know not how 
many kind things she might have said to the disconsolate 
king of the mines, had not Quicksilver hurried her away. 

“Come along quickly,” whispered he in her ear, “or 
His Majesty may change his royal mind. And take 
care, above all things, that you say nothing of what 
was brought you on the golden salver.” 

In a very short time they had passed the great gate- 
way (leaving the three-headed Cerberus barking, and 
yelping, and growling, with threefold din, behind them), 
and emerged upon the surface of the earth. It was 
delightful to behold, as Proserpina hastened along, how 
the path grew verdant behind and on either side of her. 
Wherever she set her blessed foot, there was at once a 
dewy flower. The violets gushed up along the wayside. 
The grass and the grain began to sprout with tenfold 


6 2 Myths Every Child Should Know 

vigour and luxuriance, to make up for the dreary months 
that had been wasted in barrenness. The starved cattle 
immediately set to work grazing, after their long fast, and 
ate enormously all day, and got up at midnight to eat 
more. But I can assure you it was a busy time of year 
with the farmers, when they found the summer coming 
upon them with such a rush. Nor must I forget to say 
that all the birds in the whole world hopped about upon 
the newly blossoming trees, and sang together in a 
prodigious ecstasy of joy. 

Mother Ceres had returned to her deserted home, and 
was sitting disconsolately on the doorstep, with her torch 
burning in her hand. She had been idly watching the 
flame for some moments past, when all at once it flickered 
and went out. 

“What does this mean?” thought she. “It was an 
enchanted torch, and should have kept burning till my 
child came back.” 

Lifting her eyes, she was surprised to see a sudden 
verdure flashing over the brown and barren fields, ex- 
actly as you may have observed a golden hue gleaming 
far and wide across the landscape, from the just risen 
sun. 

“Does the earth disobey me?” exclaimed Mother 
Ceres, indignantly. “Does it presume to be green, 
when I have bidden it be barren, until my daughter 
shall be restored to my arms?” 

“Then open your arms, dear mother,” cried a well- 
known voice, “and take your little daughter into them.” 

And Proserpina came running, and flung herself 
upon her mother’s bosom. Their mutual transport is 
not to be described. The grief of their separation had 
caused both of them to shed a great many tears; and 


The Pomegranate Seeds 63 

now they shed a great many more, because their joy 
could not so well express itself in any other way. 

When their hearts had grown a little more quiet, 
Mother Ceres looked anxiously at Proserpina. 

“My child,” said she, “did you taste any food while 
you were in King Pluto’s palace?” 

“Dearest mother,” answered Proserpina, “I will 
tell you the whole truth. Until this very morning, not 
a morsel of food had passed my lips. But to-day, 
they brought me a pomegranate (a very dry one it 
was, and all shrivelled up, till there was little left of 
it but seeds and skin), and having seen no fruit for so 
long a time, and being faint with hunger, I was tempted 
just to bite it. The instant I tasted it, King Pluto 
and Quicksilver came into the room. I had not swal- 
lowed a morsel; but — dear mother, I hope it was no 
harm — but six of the pomegranate seeds, I am afraid, 
remained in my mouth.” 

“Ah, unfortunate child, and miserable me!” exclaimed 
Ceres. “For each of those six pomegranate seeds you 
must spend one month of every year in King Pluto’s 
palace. You are but half restored to your mother. 
Only six months with me, and six with that good-for- 
nothing King of Darkness!” 

“Do not speak so harshly of poor King Pluto,” 
said Proserpina, kissing her mother. “He has 
some very good qualities; and I really think I can 
bear to spend six months in his palace, if he will 
only let me spend the other six with you. He certainly 
did very wrong to carry me off; but then, as he says, 
it was but a dismal sort of life for him, to live in that 
great gloomy place, all alone; and it has made a 
wonderful change in his spirits to have a little girl 


6 4 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


to run up stairs and down. There is some comfort 
in making him so happy; and so, upon the whole, 
dearest mother, let us be thankful that he is not to keep 
me the whole year round.” 


CHAPTER III 


THE CHIMERA 

Once, in the old, old times (for all the strange things 
which I tell you about happened long before anybody 
can remember), a fountain gushed out of a hillside, in the 
marvellous land of Greece. And, for aught I know, 
after so many thousand years, it is still gushing out of 
the very selfsame spot. At any rate, there was the 
pleasant fountain, welling freshly forth and sparkling 
adown the hillside, in the golden sunset, when a hand- 
some young man named Bellerophon drew near its 
margin. In his hand he held a bridle, studded with 
brilliant gems, and adorned with a golden bit. Seeing 
an old man, and another of middle age, and a little boy, 
near the fountain, and likewise a maiden, who was 
dipping up some of the water in a pitcher, he paused, 
and begged that he might refresh himself with a 
draught. 

“This is very delicious water,” he said to the maiden as 
he rinsed and filled her pitcher, after drinking out of it. 
“Will you be kind enough to tell me whether the fountain 
has any name?” 

“Yes; it is called the Fountain of Pirene,” answered 
the maiden; and then she added, “My grandmother 
has told me that this clear fountain was once a beautiful 
woman; and when her son was killed by the arrows of 
the huntress Diana, she melted all away into tears. 
65 


66 Myths Every Child Should Know 

And so the water, which you find so cool and sweet, is 
the sorrow of that poor mother’s heart!” 

“I should not have dreamed,” observed the young 
stranger, “that so clear a well-spring, with its gush 
and gurgle, and its cheery dance out of the shade into the 
sunlight, had so much as one tear-drop in its bosom! 
And this, then, is Pirene? I thank you, pretty maiden, 
for telling me its name. I have come from a far-away 
country to find this very spot.” 

A middle-aged country fellow (he had driven his 
cow to drink out of the spring) stared hard at young 
Bellerophon, and at the handsome bridle which he 
carried in his hand. 

“The watercourses must be getting low, friend, in 
your part of the world,” remarked he, “if you come 
so far only to find the Fountain of Pirene. But, pray, 
have you lost a horse? I see you carry the bridle in 
your hand; and a very pretty one it is with that double 
row of bright stones upon it. If the horse was as fine 
as the bridle, you are much to be pitied for losing him.” 

“I have lost no horse,” said Bellerophon, with a 
smile. “But I happen to be seeking a very famous one, 
which, as wise people have informed me, must be found 
hereabouts, if anywhere. Do you know whether the 
winged horse Pegasus still haunts the Fountain of 
Pirene, as he used to do in your forefathers’ days?” 

But then the country fellow laughed. 

Some of you, my little friends , have probably heard 
that this Pegasus was a snow-white steed, with beautiful 
silvery wings, who spent most of his time on the summit 
of Mount Helicon. He was as wild, and as swift, and as 
buoyant, in his flight through the air, as any eagle that 
ever soared into the clouds. There was nothing else 


The Chimcera 


67 


like him in the world. He had no mate; he never 
had been backed or bridled by a master; and, for many a 
long year, he led a solitary and a happy life. 

Oh, how fine a thing it is to be a winged horse! Sleep- 
ing at night, as he did, on a lofty mountain-top, and 
passing the greater part of the day in the air, Pegasus 
seemed hardly to be a creature of the earth. Whenever 
he was seen, up very high above people’s heads, with 
the sunshine on his silvery wings, you would have thought 
that he belonged to the sky, and that, skimming a little 
too low, he had got astray among our mists and vapours, 
and was seeking his way back again. It was very pretty 
to behold him plunge into the fleecy bosom of a bright 
cloud, and be lost in it, for a moment or two, and then 
break forth from the other side. Or, in a sullen rain 
storm, when there was a gray pavement of clouds over 
the whole sky, it would sometimes happen that the winged 
horse descended right through it, and the glad light of 
the upper region would gleam after him. In another 
instant, it is true, both Pegasus and the pleasant light 
would be gone away together. But anyone that was 
fortunate enough to see this wondrous spectacle felt 
cheerful the whole day afterward, and as much longer 
as the storm lasted. 

In the summer time, and in the beautifullest of weather, 
Pegasus often alighted on the solid earth, and, closing 
his silvery wings, would gallop over hill and dale for 
pastime, as fleetly as the wind. Oftener than in any 
other place, he had been seen near the Fountain of 
Pirene, drinking the delicious water, or rolling himself 
upon the soft grass of the margin. Sometimes, too 
(but Pegasus was very dainty in his food), he would crop a 
few of the clover blossoms that happened to be sweetest. 


68 Myths Every Child Should Know 

To the Fountain of Pirene, therefore, people’s great- 
grandfathers had been in the habit of going (as long 
as they were youthful and retained their faith in winged 
horses), in hopes of getting a glimpse at the beautiful 
Pegasus. But, of late years, he had been very seldom 
seen. Indeed, there were many of the country folks, 
dwelling within half an hour’s walk of the fountain, 
who had never beheld Pegasus, and did not believe 
that there was any such creature in existence. The 
country fellow to whom Bellerophon was speaking 
chanced to be one of those incredulous persons. 

And that was the reason why he laughed. 

“ Pegasus, indeed!” cried he, turning up his nose 
as high as such a flat nose could be turned up — “Pegasus, 
indeed! A winged horse, truly! Why, friend, are you 
in your senses ? Of what use would wings be to a horse ? 
Could he drag the plough so well, think you? To be 
sure, there might be a little saving in the expense of 
shoes; but then, how would a man like to see his horse 
flying out of the stable window? — yes, or whisking him 
up above the clouds, when he only wanted to ride to 
mill ? No, no! I don’t believe in Pegasus. There never 
was such a ridiculous kind of a horse fowl made!” 

“I have some reason to think otherwise,” said Bel- 
lerophon, quietly. 

And then he turned to an old, gray man, who was 
leaning on a staff, and listening very attentively, with 
his head stretched forward and one hand at his ear, 
because, for the last twenty years, he had been getting 
rather deaf. 

“And what say you, venerable sir?” inquired he. 
“In your younger days, I should imagine, you must 
frequently have seen the winged steed!” 


The Chimcera 


69 


“Ah, young stranger, my memory is very poor!” 
said the aged man. “When I was a lad, if I remem- 
ber rightly, I used to believe there was such a horse, 
and so did everybody else. But, nowadays, I hardly 
know what to think, and very seldom think about the 
winged horse at all. If I ever saw the creature, it was 
a long, long while ago; and, to tell you the truth, I 
doubt whether I ever did see him. One day, to be 
sure, when I was quite a youth, I remember seeing 
some hoof tramps round about the brink of the 
fountain. Pegasus might have made those hoof 
marks; and so might some other horse.” 

“And have you never seen him, my fair maiden?” 
asked Bellerophon of the girl, who stood with the pitcher 
on her head, while this talk went on. “You certainly 
could see Pegasus, if anybody can, for your eyes are 
very bright.” 

“Once I thought I saw him,” replied the maiden, 
with a smile and a blush. “It was either Pegasus or a 
large white bird, a very great way up in the air. And 
one other time, as I was coming to the fountain with 
my pitcher, I heard a neigh. Oh, such a brisk and 
melodious neigh as that was! My very heart leaped 
with delight at the sound. But it startled me, never- 
theless; so that I ran home without filling my pitcher.” 

“That was truly a pity!” said Bellerophon. 

And he turned to the child, whom I mentioned at 
the beginning of the story, and who was gazing at him, 
as children are apt to gaze at strangers, with his rosy 
mouth wide open. 

“Well, my little fellow,” cried Bellerophon, playfully 
pulling one of his curls, “I suppose you have often seen 
the winged horse.” 


7o 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


“That I have,” answered the child, very readily. 
“I saw him yesterday, and many times before.” 

“You are a fine little man!” said Bellerophon, draw- 
ing the child closer to him. “Come, tell me all 
about it.” 

“Why,” replied the child, “I often come here to 
sail little boats in the fountain, and to gather pretty 
pebbles out of its basin. And sometimes, when I look 
down into the water, I see the image of the winged horse 
in the picture of the sky that is there. I wish he would 
come down, and take me on his back, and let me ride 
him up to the moon! But, if I so much as stir to look 
at him, he flies far away out of sight.” 

And Bellerophon put his faith in the child, who had 
seen the image of Pegasus in the water, and in the maiden, 
who had heard him neigh so melodiously, rather than 
in the middle-aged clown, who believed only in cart 
horses, or in the old man who had forgotten the beautiful 
things of his youth. 

Therefore, he haunted about the Fountain of Pirene 
for a great many days afterward. He kept continually 
on the watch, looking upward at the sky, or else down 
into the water, hoping forever that he should see either 
the reflected image of the winged horse, or the marvellous 
reality. He held the bridle, with its bright gems and 
golden bit, always ready in his hand. The rustic people 
who dwelt in the neighbourhood, and drove their cattle 
to the fountain to drink, would often laugh at poor 
Bellerophon, and sometimes take him pretty severely 
to task. They told him that an able-bodied young 
man like himself ought to have better business than to 
be wasting his time in such an idle pursuit. They offered 
to sell him a horse, if he wanted one; and when Bellero- 


The Chimccra 


7i 


phon declined the purchase, they tried to drive a bargain 
with him for his fine bridle. 

Even the country boys thought him so very foolish 
that they used to have a great deal of sport about him, 
and were rude enough not to care a fig, although Bel- 
lerophon saw and heard it. One little urchin, for exam- 
ple, would play Pegasus, and cut the oddest imaginable 
capers, by way of flying; while one of his schoolfellows 
would scamper after him, holding forth a twist of bul- 
rushes, which was intended to represent Bellerophon’s 
ornamental bridle. But the gentle child, who had seen 
the picture of Pegasus in the water, comforted the young 
stranger more than all the naughty boys could torment 
him. The dear little fellow, in his play hours, often 
sat down beside him, and, without speaking a word, 
would look down into the fountain and up toward the 
sky, with so innocent a faith that Bellerophon could 
not help feeling encouraged. 

Now you will, perhaps, wish to be told why it was 
that Bellerophon had undertaken to catch the winged 
horse. And we shall find no better opportunity to speak 
about this matter than while he is waiting for Pegasus 
to appear. 

If I were to relate the whole of Bellerophon’s pre- 
vious adventures, they might easily grow into a very 
long story. It will be quite enough to say that, in a 
certain country of Asia, a terrible monster, called a 
Chimera, had made its appearance, and was doing 
more mischief than could be talked about between now 
and sunset. According to the best accounts which I 
have been able to obtain, this Chimaera was nearly, if 
not quite, the ugliest and most poisonous creature, and 
the strangest and unaccountablest, and the hardest to 


72 Myths Every Child Should Know 

fight with, and the most difficult to run away from, that 
ever came out of the earth’s inside. It had a tail like 
a boa-constrictor; its body was like I do not care what; 
and it had three separate heads, one of which was a 
lion’s, the second a goat’s, and the third an abominably 
great snake’s. And a hot blast of fire came flaming 
out of each of its three mouths! Being an earthly mon- 
ster, I doubt whether it had any wings; but, wings or 
no, it ran like a goat and a lion, and wriggled along like 
a serpent, and thus contrived to make about as much 
speed as all the three together. 

Oh, the mischief, and mischief, and mischief that 
this naughty creature did! With its flaming breath, 
it could set a forest on fire, or burn up a field of grain, 
or, for that matter, a village, with all its fences and 
houses. It laid waste the whole country round about, 
and used to eat up people and animals alive, and cook 
them afterward in the burning oven of its stomach. 
Mercy on us, little children, I hope neither you nor I 
will ever happen to meet a Chimaera! 

While the hateful beast (if a beast we can anywise 
call it) was doing all these horrible things, it so chanced 
that Bellerophon came to that part of the world, on a 
visit to the king. The king’s name was Iobates, and 
Lycia was the country which he ruled over. Bellerophon 
was one of the bravest youths in the world, and desired 
nothing so much as to do some valiant and beneficent 
deed, such as would make all mankind admire and love 
him. In those days, the only way for a young man to 
distinguish himself was by fighting battles, either with 
the enemies of his country, or with wicked giants, or with 
troublesome dragons, or with wild beasts, when he could 
find nothing more dangerous to encounter. King Iobates, 


The Chimcera 


73 


perceiving the courage of his youthful visitor, proposed 
to him to go and fight the Chimaera, which everybody 
else was afraid of, and which, unless it should be soon 
killed, was likely to convert Lycia into a desert. Bel- 
lerophon hesitated not a moment, but assured the king 
that he would either slay this dreaded Chimaera, or 
perish in the attempt. 

But, in the first place, as the monster was so pro- 
digiously swift, he bethought himself that he should 
never win the victory by fighting on foot. The wisest 
thing he could do, therefore, was to get the very best 
and fleetest horse that could anywhere be found. And 
what other horse in all the world was half so fleet as 
the marvellous horse Pegasus, who had wings as well 
as legs, and was even more active in the air than on the 
earth? To be sure, a great many people denied that 
there was any such horse with wings, and said that 
the stories about him were all poetry and nonsense. 
But, wonderful as it appeared, Bellerophon believed 
that Pegasus was a real steed, and hoped that he him- 
self might be fortunate enough to find him; and, once 
fairly mounted on his back, he would be able to fight 
the Chimaera at better advantage. 

And this was the purpose with which he had trav- 
elled from Lycia to Greece, and had brought the beau- 
tifully ornamented bridle in his hand. It was an en- 
chanted bridle. If he could only succeed in putting 
the golden bit into the mouth of Pegasus, the winged 
horse would be submissive, and would own Bellerophon 
for his master, and fly whithersoever he might choose 
to turn the rein. 

But, indeed, it was a weary and anxious time, while 
Bellerophon waited and waited for Pegasus, in hopes 


74 Myths Every Child Should Know 

that he would come and drink at the Fountain of Pirene. 
He was afraid lest King Iobates should imagine that he 
had fled from the Chimaera. It pained him, too, to 
think how much mischief the monster was doing, while 
he himself, instead of fighting with it, was compelled 
to sit idly poring over the bright waters of Pirene, as 
they gushed out of the sparkling sand. And as Pegasus 
came thither so seldom in these latter years, and scarcely 
alighted there more than once in a lifetime, Bellerophon 
feared that he might grow an old man, and have no 
strength left in his arms nor courage in his heart, before 
the winged horse would appear. Oh, how heavily 
passes the time, while an adventurous youth is yearning 
to do his part in life, and to gather in the harvest of his 
renown! How hard a lesson it is to wait! Our life is 
brief, and how much of it is spent in teaching us only this! 

Well was it for Bellerophon that the gentle child had 
grown so fond of him, and was never weary of keeping 
him company. Every morning the child gave him a 
new hope to put in his bosom, instead of yesterday’s 
withered one. 

“Dear Bellerophon,” he would cry, looking up hope- 
fully into his face, “I think we shall see Pegasus to-day!” 

And, at length, if it had not been for the little boy’s 
unwavering faith, Bellerophon would have given up all 
hope, and would have gone back to Lycia, and have 
done his best to slay the Chimaera without the help of 
the winged horse. And in that case poor Bellerophon 
would at least have been terribly scorched by the crea- 
ture’s breath, and would most probably have been killed 
and devoured. Nobody should ever try to fight an 
earth-born Chimaera, unless he can first get upon the 
back of an aerial steed. 


The Chimcera 


75 


One morning the child spoke to Bellerophon even 
more hopefully than usual. 

“Dear, dear Bellerophon,” cried he, “I know not 
why it is, but I feel as if we should certainly see Pegasus 
to-day !” 

And all that day he would not stir a step from Bel- 
lerophon’s side; so they ate a crust of bread together, 
and drank some of the water of the fountain. In the 
afternoon, there they sat, and Bellerophon had thrown 
his arm around the child, who likewise had put one of 
his little hands into Bellerophon’s. The latter was lost 
in his own thoughts, and was fixing his eyes vacantly 
on the trunks of the trees that overshadowed the fountain, 
and on the grapevines that clambered up among their 
branches. But the gentle child was gazing down into 
the water; he was grieved, for Bellerophon’s sake, that 
the hope of another day should be deceived, like so many 
before it; and two or three quiet tear-drops fell from 
his eyes, and mingled with what were said to be the 
many tears of Pirene, when she wept for her slain children. 

But, when he least thought of it, Bellerophon felt the 
pressure of the child’s little hand, and heard a soft, 
almost breathless, whisper. 

“See there, dear Bellerophon! There is an image 
in the water!” 

The young man looked down into the dimpling mir- 
ror of the fountain, and saw what he took to be the 
reflection of a bird which seemed to be flying at a great 
height in the air, with a gleam of sunshine on its snowy 
or silvery wings. 

“What a splendid bird it must be!” said he. “And 
how very large it looks, though it must really be flying 
higher than the clouds!” 


76 Myths Every Child Should Know 

“It makes me tremble!” whispered the child. “I 
am afraid to look up into the air! It is very beautiful, 
and yet I dare only look at its image in the water. Dear 
Bellerophon, do you not see that it is no bird ? It is the 
winged horse Pegasus!” 

Bellerophon’s heart began to throb! He gazed 
keenly upward, but could not see the winged creature, 
whether bird or horse; because, just then, it had plunged 
into the fleecy depths of a summer cloud. It was but 
a moment, however, before the object reappeared, sink- 
ing lightly down out of the cloud, although still at a vast 
distance from the earth. Bellerophon caught the child 
in his arms, and shrank back with him, so that they w r ere 
both hidden among the thick shrubbery which grew all 
around the fountain. Not that he was afraid of any 
harm, but he dreaded lest, if Pegasus caught a glimpse 
of them, he would fly far away, and alight in some 
inaccessible mountain-top. For it was really the winged 
horse. After they had expected him so long, he was 
coming to quench his thirst with the water of Pirene. 

Nearer and nearer came the aerial wonder, flying in 
great circles, as you may have seen a dove when about 
to alight. Downward came Pegasus, in those wide, 
sweeping circles, which grew narrower, and narrower 
still, as he gradually approached the earth. The nigher 
the view of him, the more beautiful he was, and the more 
marvellous the sweep of his silvery wings. At last, with 
so light a pressure as hardly to bend the grass about 
the fountain, or imprint a hoof tramp in the sand of its 
margin, he alighted, and, stooping his wild head, began 
to drink. He drew in the water, with long and pleasant 
sighs, and tranquil pauses of enjoyment; and then 
another draught, and another, and another. For, 


The Chimcera 


77 


nowhere in the world, or up among the clouds, did 
Pegasus love any water as he loved this of Pirene. And 
when his thirst was slaked, he cropped a few of the 
honey blossoms of the clover, delicately tasting them, 
but not caring to make a hearty meal, because the herbage 
just beneath the clouds, on the lofty sides of Mount 
Helicon, suited his palate better than this ordinary grass. 

After thus drinking to his heart’s content, and in 
his dainty fashion condescending to take a little food, 
the winged horse began to caper to and fro, and dance 
as it were, out of mere idleness and sport. There 
never was a more playful creature made than this very 
Pegasus. So there he frisked, in a way that it delights 
me to think about, fluttering his great wings as lightly 
as ever did a linnet, and running little races, half on 
earth and half in air, and which I know not whether to 
call a flight or a gallop. When a creature is perfectly 
able to fly, he sometimes chooses to run, just for the 
pastime of the thing; and so did Pegasus, although it 
cost him some little trouble to keep his hoofs so near the 
ground. Bellerophon, meanwhile, holding the child’s 
hand, peeped forth from the shrubbery, and thought that 
never was any sight so beautiful as this, nor ever a horse’s 
eyes so wild and spirited as those of Pegasus. It seemed 
a sin to think of bridling him and riding on his back. 

Once or twice, Pegasus stopped, and snuffed the 
air, pricking up his ears, tossing his head, and turning 
it on all sides, as if he partly suspected some mischief 
or other. Seeing nothing, however, and hearing no 
sound, he soon began his antics again. 

At length — not that he was weary, but only idle 
and luxurious — Pegasus folded his wings, and lay down 
on the soft green turf. But, being too full of aerial life 


78 Myths Every Child Should Know 

to remain quiet for many moments together, he soon 
rolled over on his back, with his four slender legs in the 
air. It was beautiful to see him, this one solitary creature, 
whose mate had never been created, but who needed no 
companion, and, living a great many hundred years, was 
as happy as the centuries were long. The more he did 
such things as mortal horses are accustomed to do, the 
less earthly and the more wonderful he seemed. Bellero- 
phon and the child almost held their breaths, partly from 
a delightful awe, but still more because they dreaded lest 
the slightest stir or murmur should send him up, with the 
speed of an arrow flight, into the farthest blue of the 
sky. 

Finally, when he had had enough of rolling over 
and over, Pegasus turned himself about, and, indolently, 
like any other horse, put out his fore legs, in order to 
rise from the ground; and Bellerophon, who had guessed 
that he would do so, darted suddenly from the thicket, 
and leaped astride of his back. 

Yes, there he sat, on the back of the winged horse! 

But what a bound did Pegasus make, when, for the 
first time, he felt the weight of a mortal man upon 
his loins! A bound, indeed! Before he had time to 
draw a breath Bellerophon found himself five hundred 
feet aloft, and still shooting upward, while the winged 
horse snorted and trembled with terror and anger. 
Upward he went, up, up, up, until he plunged into 
the cold misty bosom of a cloud, at which, only a little 
while before, Bellerophon had been gazing, and fancy- 
ing it a very pleasant spot. Then again, out of the 
heart of the cloud, Pegasus shot down like a thunder- 
bolt, as if he meant to dash both himself and his rider 
headlong against a rock. Then he went through about 


The Chimcera 


79 

a thousand of the wildest caprioles that had ever been 
performed either by a bird or a horse. 

I cannot tell you half that he did. He skimmed 
straight forward, and sideways, and backward. He 
reared himself erect, with his fore legs on a wreath of 
mist, and his hind legs on nothing at all. He flung 
out his heels behind, and put down his head between 
his legs, with his wings pointing right upward. At 
about two miles’ height above the earth, he turned a 
somerset, so that Bellerophon’s heels were where his 
head should have been, and he seemed to look down 
into the sky, instead of up. He twisted his head about, 
and, looking Bellerophon in the face, with fire flashing 
from his eyes, made a terrible attempt to bite him. He 
fluttered his pinions so wildly that one of the silver 
feathers was shaken out, and floating earthward, was 
picked up by the child, who kept it as long as he lived, 
in memory of Pegasus and Bellerophon. 

But the latter (who, as you may judge, was as good 
a horseman as ever galloped) had been watching his 
opportunity, and at last clapped the golden bit of the 
enchanted bridle between the winged steed’s jaws. 
No sooner was this done, than Pegasus became as 
manageable as if he had taken food all his life out of 
Bellerophon’s hand. To speak what I really feel, it 
was almost a sadness to see so wild a creature grow 
suddenly so tame. And Pegasus seemed to feel it so, 
likewise. He looked round to Bellerophon, with the 
tears in his beautiful eyes, instead of the fire that so 
recently flashed from them. But when Bellerophon 
patted his head, and spoke a few authoritative yet kind 
and soothing words, another look came into the eyes 
of Pegasus; for he was glad at heart, after so many 


So Myths Every Child Should Know 

lonely centuries, to have found a companion and a 
master. 

Thus it always is with winged horses, and with all 
such wild and solitary creatures. If you can catch and 
overcome them, it is the surest way to win their love. 

While Pegasus had been doing his utmost to shake 
Bellerophon off his back, he had flown a very long 
distance; and they had come within sight of a lofty 
mountain by the time the bit was in his mouth. Bellero- 
phon had seen this mountain before, and knew it to be 
Helicon, on the summit of which was the winged horse’s 
abode. Thither (after looking gently into his rider’s 
face, as if to ask leave) Pegasus now flew, and, alighting, 
waited patiently until Bellerophon should please to 
dismount. The young man, accordingly, leaped from 
his steed’s back, but still held him fast by the bridle. 
Meeting his eyes, however, he was so affected by the 
gentleness of his aspect, and by the thought of the free 
life which Pegasus had heretofore lived, that he could 
not bear to keep him a prisoner, if he really desired his 
liberty. 

Obeying this generous impulse he slipped the enchanted 
bridle off the head of Pegasus, and took the bit from his 
mouth. 

“Leave me, Pegasus!” said he. “Either leave me, 
or love me.” 

In an instant, the winged horse shot almost out of 
sight, soaring upward from the summit of Mount Helicon. 
Being long after sunset, it was now twilight on the 
mountain-top, and dusky evening over all the country 
round about. But Pegasus flew so high that he overtook 
the departed day, and was bathed in the upper radiance 
of the sun. Ascending higher and higher, he looked like 


The Chimeera 


81 


a bright speck, and, at last, could no longer be seen in 
the hollow waste of the sky. And Bellerophon was afraid 
that he should never behold him more. But, while he 
was lamenting his own folly, the bright speck reappeared, 
and drew nearer and nearer, until it descended lower than 
the sunshine; and, behold, Pegasus had come back! 
After this trial there was no more fear of the winged 
horse’s making his escape. He and Bellerophon were 
friends, and put loving faith in one another. 

That night they lay down and slept together, with 
Bellerophon’s arm about the neck of Pegasus, not as 
a caution, but for kindness. And they awoke at peep 
of day, and bade one another good-morning, each in his 
own language. 

In this manner, Bellerophon and the wondrous steed 
spent several days, and grew better acquainted and 
fonder of each other all the time. They went on long 
aerial journeys, and sometimes ascended so high that the 
earth looked hardly bigger than — the moon. They visited 
distant countries, and amazed the inhabitants, who 
thought that the beautiful young man, on the back of the 
winged horse, must have come down out of the sky. 
A thousand miles a day was no more than an easy space 
for the fleet Pegasus to pass over. Bellerophon was 
delighted with this kind of life, and would have liked 
nothing better than to live always in the same way, aloft 
in the clear atmosphere; for it was always sunny weather 
up there, however cheerless and rainy it might be in the 
lower region. But he could not forget the horrible 
Chimaera, which he had promised King Iobates to slay. 
So, at last, when he had become well accustomed to 
feats of horsemanship in the air, and could manage 
Pegasus with the least motion of his hand, and had 


82 Myths Every Child Should Know 

taught him to obey his voice, he determined to attempt 
the performance of this perilous adventure. 

At daybreak, therefore, as soon as he unclosed his 
eyes, he gently pinched the winged horse’s ear, in order 
to arouse him. Pegasus immediately started from the 
ground, and pranced about a quarter of a mile aloft, 
and made a grand sweep around the mountain-top, by 
way of showing that he was wide awake, and ready for 
any kind of an excursion. During the whole of this 
little flight, he uttered a loud, brisk, and melodious 
neigh, and finally came down at Bellerophon’s side, as 
lightly as ever you saw a sparrow hop upon a twig. 

“ Well done, dear Pegasus ! well done, my sky-skimmer ! ” 
cried Bellerophon, fondly stroking the horse’s neck. 
“And now, my fleet and beautiful friend, we must break 
our fast. To-day we are to fight the terrible Chimaera.” 

As soon as they had eaten their morning meal, and 
drank some sparkling water from a spring called Hip- 
pocrene, Pegasus held out his head, of his own accord, 
so that his master might put on the bridle. Then, with 
a great many playful leaps and airy caperings, he showed 
his impatience to be gone; while Bellerophon was girding 
on his sword, and hanging his shield about his neck, and 
preparing himself for battle. When everything was 
ready, the rider mounted, and (as was his custom, when 
going a long distance) ascended five miles perpendicularly, 
so as the better to see whither he was directing his course. 
He then turned the head of Pegasus toward the east, and 
set out for Lycia. In their flight they overtook an eagle, 
and came so nigh him, before he could get out of their 
way, that Bellerophon might easily have caught him 
by the leg. Hastening onward at this rate, it was still 
early in the forenoon when they beheld the lofty mountains 


The Chimcera 


83 


of Lycia, with their deep and shaggy valleys. If Bellero- 
phon had been told truly, it was in one of those dismal 
valleys that the hideous Chimaera had taken up its 
abode. 

Being now so near their journey’s end, the winged 
horse gradually descended with his rider; and they took 
advantage of some clouds that were floating over the 
mountain-tops, in order to conceal themselves. Hovering 
on the upper surface of a cloud, and peeping over its 
edge, Bellerophon had a pretty distinct view of the 
mountainous part of Lycia, and could look into all its 
shadowy vales at once. At first there appeared to be 
nothing remarkable. It was a wild, savage, and rocky 
tract of high and precipitous hills. In the more level 
part of the country, there were the ruins of houses 
that had been burnt, and, here and there, the carcasses of 
dead cattle, strewn about the pastures where they had 
been feeding. 

“The Chimaera must have done this mischief,” 
thought Bellerophon. “But where can the monster 
be?” 

As I have already said, there was nothing remarkable 
to be detected, at first sight, in any of the valleys and 
dells that lay among the precipitous heights of the 
mountains. Nothing at all; unless, indeed, it were 
three spires of black smoke, which issued from what 
seemed to be the mouth of a cavern, and clambered 
sullenly into the atmosphere. Before reaching the 
mountain-top, these three black smoke wreaths mingled 
themselves into one. The cavern was almost directly 
beneath the winged horse and his rider, at the distance 
of about a thousand feet. The smoke, as it crept heavily 
upward, had an ugly, sulphurous, stifling scent, which 


84 Myths Every Child Should Know 

caused Pegasus to snort and Bellerophon to sneeze* 
So disagreeable was it to the marvellous steed (who 
was accustomed to breathe only the purest air), that he 
waved his wings, and shot half a mile out of the range 
of this offensive vapour. 

But, on looking behind him, Bellerophon saw some- 
thing that induced him first to draw the bridle, and 
then to turn Pegasus about. He made a sign, which 
the winged horse understood, and sunk slowly through 
the air, until his hoofs were scarcely more than a man’s 
height above the rocky bottom of the valley. In front, 
as far off as you could throw a stone, was the cavern’s 
mouth, with the three smoke wreaths oozing out of it. 
And what else did Bellerophon behold there ? 

There seemed to be a heap of strange and terrible 
creatures curled up within the cavern. Their bodies 
lay so close together that Bellerophon could not dis- 
tinguish them apart; but, judging by their heads, one 
of these creatures was a huge snake, the second a fierce 
lion, and the third an ugly goat. The lion and the goat 
were asleep; the snake was broad awake, and kept 
staring around him with a great pair of fiery eyes. But — 
and this was the most wonderful part of the matter — the 
three spires of smoke evidently issued from the nostrils 
of these three heads! So strange was the spectacle, that, 
though Bellerophon had been all along expecting it, the 
truth did not immediately occur to him, that here was the 
terrible three-headed Chimaera. He had found out the 
Chimaera’s cavern. The snake, the lion, and the goat, 
as he supposed them to be, were not three separate 
creatures, but one monster! 

The wicked, hateful thing! Slumbering as two-thirds 
of it were, it still held, in its abominable claws, the 


The Chimcera 


85 


remnant of an unfortunate lamb — or possibly (but I 
hate to think so) it was a dear little boy — which its three 
mouths had been gnawing, before two of them fell asleep ! 

All at once, Bellerophon started as from a dream, and 
knew it to be the Chimcera. Pegasus seemed to know it, 
at the same instant, and sent forth a neigh that sounded 
like the call of a trumpet to battle. At this sound the 
three heads reared themselves erect, and belched out 
great flashes of flame. Before Bellerophon had time to 
consider what to do next, the monster flung itself out of 
the cavern and sprung straight toward him, with its 
immense claws extended, and its snaky tail twisting 
itself venomously behind. If Pegasus had not been as 
nimble as a bird, both he and his rider would have been 
overthrown by the Chimaera’s headlong rush, and thus 
the battle have been ended before it was well begun. 
But the winged horse was not to be caught so. In the 
twinkling of an eye he was up aloft, half way to the clouds, 
snorting with anger. He shuddered, too, not with 
affright, but with utter disgust at the loathsomeness of 
this poisonous thing with three heads. 

The Chimaera, on the other hand, raised itself up so 
as to stand absolutely on the tip end of its tail, with 
its talons pawing fiercely in the air, and its three heads 
sputtering fire at Pegasus and his rider. My stars, 
how it roared, and hissed, and bellowed! Bellerophon, 
meanwhile, was fitting his shield on his arm, and drawing 
his sword. 

“Now, my beloved Pegasus,” he whispered in the 
winged horse’s ear, “thou must help me to slay this 
insufferable monster; or else thou shalt fly back to thy 
solitary mountain peak without thy friend Bellerophon. 
For either the Chimaera dies, or its three mouths shall 


86 Myths Every Child Should Know 

gnaw this head of mine, which has slumbered upon thy 
neck!” 

Pegasus whinnied, and, turning back his head, rubbed 
his nose tenderly against his rider’s cheek. It was his 
way of telling him that, though he had wings and was 
an immortal horse, yet he would perish, if it were possible 
for immortality to perish, rather than leave Bellerophon 
behind. 

“I thank you, Pegasus,” answered Bellerophon. 
“Now, then, let us make a dash at the monster!” 

Uttering these words, he shook the bridle; and Pegasus 
darted down aslant, as swift as the flight of an arrow, 
right toward the Chimaera’s threefold head, which, all 
this time, was poking itself as high as it could into the 
air. As he came within arm’s length, Bellerophon 
made a cut at the monster, but was carried onward 
by his steed, before he could see whether the blow had 
been successful. Pegasus continued his course, but soon 
wheeled round, at about the same distance from the 
Chimaera as before. Bellerophon then perceived that 
he had cut the goat’s head of the monster almost off, so 
that it dangled downward by the skin, and seemed quite 
dead. 

But, to make amends, the snake’s head and the lion’s 
head had taken all the fierceness of the dead one into 
themselves, and spit flame, and hissed, and roared, with a 
vast deal more fury than before. 

“Never mind, my brave Pegasus!” cried Bellerophon. 
“With another stroke like that, we will stop either its 
hissing or its roaring.” 

And again he shook the bridle. Dashing aslant- 
wise, as before, the winged horse made another arrow- 
flight toward the Chimaera, and Bellerophon aimed 


The Chimoera 


87 


another downright stroke at one of the two remaining 
heads, as he shot by. But this time, neither he nor 
Pegasus escaped so well as at first. With one of its 
claws, the Chimera had given the young man a deep 
scratch in his shoulder, and had slightly damaged the 
left wing of the flying steed with the other. On his 
part, Bellerophon had mortally wounded the lion’s 
head of the monster, insomuch that it now hung down- 
ward, with its fire almost extinguished, and sending 
out gasps of thick black smoke. The snake’s head, 
however (which was the only one now left), was twice 
as fierce and venomous as ever before. It belched 
forth shoots of fire five hundred yards long, and emitted 
hisses so loud, so harsh, and so ear-piercing, that King 
Iobates heard them, fifty miles off, and trembled till the 
throne shook under him. 

“Well-a-day!” thought the poor king; “the Chimaera 
is certainly coming to devour me!” 

Meanwhile Pegasus had again paused in the air, 
and neighed angrily, while sparkles of a pure crystal 
flame darted out of his eyes. How unlike the lurid 
fire of the Chimaera! The aerial steed’s spirit was all 
aroused, and so was that of Bellerophon. 

“Dost thou bleed, my immortal horse?” cried the 
young man, caring less for his own hurt than for the 
anguish of this glorious creature, that ought never to 
have tasted pain. “The execrable Chimaera shall pay 
for this mischief with his last head!” 

Then he shook the bridle, shouted loudly, and guided 
Pegasus, not aslantwise as before, but straight at the 
monster’s hideous front. So rapid was the onset that 
it seemed but a dazzle and a flash before Bellerophon 
W as at close gripes with his enemy. 


88 Myths Every Child Should Know 

The Chimaera, by this time, after losing its second 
head, had got into a red-hot passion of pain and ram- 
pant rage. It so flounced about, half on earth and 
partly in the air, that it was impossible to say which 
element it rested upon. It opened its snake jaws to 
such an abominable width, that Pegasus might almost, 
I was going to say, have flown right down its throat, 
wings outspread, rider and all! At their approach it 
shot out a tremendous blast of its fiery breath, and envel- 
oped Bellerophon and his steed in a perfect atmosphere 
of flame, singeing the wings of Pegasus, scorching off 
one whole side of the young man’s golden ringlets, and 
making them both far hotter than was comfortable, from 
head to foot. 

But this was nothing to what followed. 

When the airy rush of the winged horse had brought 
him within the distance of a hundred yards, the Chimaera 
gave a spring, and flung its huge, awkward, venomous, 
and utterly detestable carcass right upon poor Pegasus, 
clung round him with might and main, and tied up its 
snaky tail into a knot! Up flew the aerial steed, higher, 
higher, higher, above the mountain-peak, above the 
clouds, and almost out of sight of the solid earth. But 
still the earth-born monster kept its hold, and was borne 
upward, along with the creature of light and air. Bel- 
lerophon, meanwhile, turning about, found himself face 
to face with the ugly grimness of the Chimaera’s visage, 
and could only avoid being scorched to death, or bitten 
right in twain, by holding up his shield. Over the upper 
edge of the shield, he looked sternly into the savage eyes 
of the monster. 

But the Chimaera was so mad and wild with pain 
that it did not guard itself so well as might else have 


The Cliimcera 


89 


been the case. Perhaps, after all, the best way to fight 
a Chimaera is by getting as close to it as you can. In 
its efforts to stick its horrible iron claws into its enemy 
the creature left its own breast quite exposed; and per- 
ceiving this, Bellerophon thrust his sword up to the hilt 
into its cruel heart. Immediately the snaky tail untied 
its knot. The monster let go its hold of Pegasus, and 
fell from that vast height downward; while the fire 
within its bosom, instead of being put out, burned 
fiercer than ever, and quickly began to consume the 
dead carcass. Thus it fell out of the sky, all a-flame, 
and (it being nightfall before it reached the earth) was 
mistaken for a shooting star or a comet. But, at early 
sunrise, some cottagers were going to their day’s labour, 
and saw, to their astonishment, that several acres of 
ground were strewn with black ashes. In the middle 
of a field, there was a heap of whitened bones, a great 
deal higher than a haystack. Nothing else was ever 
seen of the dreadful Chimaera! 

And when Bellerophon had won the victory, he bent 
forward and kissed Pegasus, while the tears stood in 
his eyes. 

“Back now, my beloved steed!” said he. “Back 
to the Fountain of Pirene!” 

Pegasus skimmed through the air, quicker than ever 
he did before, and reached the fountain in a very short 
time. And there he found the old man leaning on his 
staff, and the country fellow watering his cow, and the 
pretty maiden filling her pitcher. 

“I remember now,” quoth the old man, “I saw this 
winged horse once before, when I was quite a lad. But 
he was ten times handsomer in those days.” 

“I own a cart horse worth three of him!” said the 


90 Myths Every Child Should Know 

country fellow. “If this pony were mine, the first thing 
I should do would be to clip his wings !” 

But the poor maiden said nothing, for she had always 
the luck to be afraid at the wrong time. So she ran 
away, and let her pitcher tumble down, and broke it. 

“Where is the gentle child,” asked Bellerophon, “who 
used to keep me company, and never lost his faith, and 
never was weary of gazing into the fountain?” 

“Here am I, dear Bellerophon!” said the child, softly. 

For the little boy had spent day after day on the 
margin of Pirene, waiting for his friend to come back; 
but when he perceived Bellerophon descending through 
the clouds, mounted on the winged horse, he had shrunk 
back into the shrubbery. He was a delicate and tender 
child, and dreaded lest the old man and the country 
fellow should see the tears gushing from his eyes. 

“Thou hast won the victory,” said he, joyfully, run- 
ning to the knee of Bellerophon, who still sat on the 
back of Pegasus. “I knew thou wouldst.” 

“Yes, dear child!” replied Bellerophon, alighting 
from the winged horse. “But if thy faith had not 
helped me, I should never have waited for Pegasus, 
and never have gone up above the clouds, and never 
have conquered the terrible Chimaera. Thou, my be- 
loved little friend, hast done it all. And now let us 
give Pegasus his liberty.” 

So he slipped off the enchanted bridle from the head 
of the marvellous steed. 

“Be free, forevermore, my Pegasus!” cried he, with 
a shade of sadness in his tone. “Be as free as thou 
art fleet!” 

But Pegasus rested his head on Bellerophon’s shoul- 
der, and . would not be persuaded to take .flight.. 


The Chimcera 


9i 


“Well then,” said Bellerophon, caressing the airy 
horse, “thou shalt be with me as long as thou wilt; 
and we will go together, forthwith, and tell King Iobates 
that the Chimaera is destroyed.” 

Then Bellerophon embraced the gentle child, and 
promised to come to him again, and departed. But, in 
after years, that child took higher flights upon the aerial 
steed than ever did Bellerophon, and achieved more hon- 
ourable deeds than his friend’s victory over the Chimaera. 
For, gentle and tender as he was, he grew to be a mighty 
poet! 


CHAPTER IV 


THE GOLDEN TOUCH 

Once upon a time, there lived a very rich man, and a 
king besides, whose name was Midas; and he had a 
little daughter, whom nobody but myself ever heard of, 
and whose name I either never knew, or have entirely 
forgotten. So, because I love odd names for little girls, 
I choose to call her Marygold. 

This King Midas was fonder of gold than of any- 
thing else in the world. He valued his royal crown 
chiefly because it was composed of that precious metal. 
If he loved anything better, or half so well, it was the 
one little maiden who played so merrily around her 
father’s footstool. But the more Midas loved his 
daughter, the more did he desire and seek for wealth. 
He thought, foolish man! that the best thing he could 
possibly do for this dear child would be to bequeath 
her the immensest pile of yellow, glistening coin, that 
had ever been heaped together since the world was 
made. Thus, he gave all his thoughts and all his time 
to this one purpose. If ever he happened to gaze for 
an instant at the gold-tinted clouds of sunset, he wished 
that they were real gold, and that they could be squeezed 
safely into his strong box. When little Marygold ran 
to meet him, with a bunch of buttercups and dandelions, 
he used to say, “Poh, poh, child! If these flowers were as 
golden as they look, they would be worth the plucking 1” 
92 


The Golden Touch 


93 


And yet, in his earlier days, before he was so entirely 
possessed of this insane desire for riches, King Midas 
had shown a great taste for flowers. He had planted a 
garden, in which grew the biggest and beautifullest and 
sweetest roses that any mortal ever saw or smelt. These 
roses were still growing in the garden, as large, as lovely, 
and as fragrant as when Midas used to pass whole hours 
in gazing at them, and inhaling their perfume. But 
now, if he looked at them at all, it was only to calculate 
how much the garden would be worth if each of the 
innumerable rose petals were a thin plate of gold. And 
though he once was fond of music (in spite of an idle 
story about his ears, which were said to resemble those 
of an ass), the only music for poor Midas, now, was the 
chink of one coin against another. 

At length (as people always grow more and more 
foolish, unless they take care to grow wiser and wiser), 
Midas had got to be so exceedingly unreasonable that 
he could scarcely bear to see or touch any object that 
was not gold. He made it his custom, therefore, to 
pass a large portion of every day in a dark and dreary 
apartment, under ground, at the basement of his pal- 
ace. It was here that he kept his wealth. To this 
dismal hole — for it was little better than a dungeon — 
Midas betook himself, whenever he wanted to be par- 
ticularly happy. Here, after carefully locking the door, 
he would take a bag of gold coin, or a gold cup as big 
as a washbowl, or a heavy golden bar, or a peck measure 
of gold dust, and bring them from the* obscure corners 
of the room into the one bright and narrow sunbeam 
that fell from the dungeon-like window. He valued the 
sunbeam for no other reason but that his treasure would 
not shine without its help. And then would he reckon 


94 


Myths Every Child Should Know 

over the coins in the bag; toss up the bar, and catch it 
as it came down; sift the gold dust through his fingers; 
look at the funny image of his own face, as reflected 
in the burnished circumference of the cup, and whisper 
to himself, “O Midas, rich King Midas, what a happy 
man art thou!” But it was laughable to see how the 
image of his face kept grinning at him, out of the polished 
surface of the cup. It seemed to be aware of his foolish 
behaviour, and to have a naughty inclination to make 
fun of him 

Midas called himself a happy man, but felt that he 
was not yet quite so happy as he might be. The very 
tiptop of enjoyment would never be reached, unless the 
whole world were to become his treasure room, and be 
filled with yellow metal which should be all his own. 

Now, I need hardly remind such wise little people 
as you are, that in the old, old times, when King Midas 
was alive, a great many things came to pass, which we 
should consider wonderful if they were to happen in 
our own day and country. And, on the other hand, a 
great many things take place nowadays, which seem not 
only wonderful to us, but at which the people of old 
times would have stared their eyes out. On the whole, 
I regard our own times as the strangest of the two; but, 
however that may be, I must go on with my story. 

Midas was enjoying himself in his treasure room, 
one day, as usual, when he perceived a shadow fall 
over the heaps of gold; and, looking suddenly up, 
what should fie behold but the figure of a stranger, 
standing in the bright and narrow sunbeam! It was 
a young man, with a cheerful and ruddy face. Whether 
it was that the imagination of King Midas threw a 
yellow tinge over everything, or whatever the cause 


The Golden Touch 


95 


might be, he could not help fancying that the smile 
with which the stranger regarded him had a kind of 
golden radiance in it. Certainly, although his figure 
intercepted the sunshine, there was now a brighter gleam 
upon all the piled-up treasures than before. Even the 
remotest corners had their share of it, and were lighted 
up, when the stranger smiled, as with tips of flame and 
sparkles of fire. 

As Midas knew that he had carefully turned the 
key in the lock, and that no mortal strength could pos- 
sibly break into his treasure room, he, of course, con- 
cluded that his visitor must be something more than 
mortal. It is no matter about telling you who he was. 
In those days, when the earth was comparatively a new 
affair, it was supposed to be often the resort of beings 
endowed with supernatural power, and who used to 
interest themselves in the joys and sorrows of men, 
women, and children, half playfully and half seriously. 
Midas had met such beings before now, and was not 
sorry to meet one of them again. The stranger’s aspect, 
indeed, was so good humoured and kindly, if not benefi- 
cent, that it would have been unreasonable to suspect 
him of intending any mischief. It was far more prob- 
able that he came to. do Midas a favour. And what 
could that favour be, unless to multiply his heaps of 
treasure ? 

The stranger gazed about the room; and when his 
lustrous smile had glistened upon all the golden objects 
that were there, he turned again to Midas. 

“You are a wealthy man, friend Midas!” he observed. 
“I doubt whether any other four walls, on earth, contain 
so much gold as you have contrived to pile up in this 
room.” 


g6 Myths Every Child Should Know 

“I have done pretty well — pretty well,” answered 
Midas, in a discontented tone. “But, after all, it is 
but a trifle, when you consider that it has taken me 
my whole life to get it together. If one could live a 
thousand years, he might have time to grow rich!” 

“What!” exclaimed the stranger. “Then you are 
not satisfied?” 

Midas shook his head. 

“And pray what would satisfy you?” asked the 
stranger. “Merely for the curiosity of the thing, I 
should be glad to know.” 

Midas paused and meditated. He felt a presenti- 
ment that this stranger, with such a golden lustre in 
his good-humoured smile, had come hither with both 
the power and the purpose of gratifying his utmost 
wishes. Now, therefore, was the fortunate moment, 
when he had but to speak, and obtain whatever possi- 
ble, or seemingly impossible thing, it might come into 
his head to ask. So he thought, and thought, and 
thought, and heaped up one golden mountain upon 
another, in his imagination, without being able to imagine 
them big enough. At last, a bright idea occurred to 
King Midas. It seemed really as bright as the glisten- 
ing metal which he loved so much. 

Raising his head, he looked the lustrous stranger in 
the face. 

“Well, Midas,” observed his visitor, “I see that 
you have at length hit upon something that will satisfy 
you. Tell me your wish.” 

“It is only this,” replied Midas. “I am weary of 
collecting my treasures with so much trouble, and behold- 
ing the heap so diminutive, after I have done my best. 
I wish everything that I touch to be changed to gold!” 


The Golden Touch 


97 


The stranger’s smile grew so very broad, that it seemed 
to fill the room like an outburst of the sun, gleaming 
into a shadowy dell, where the yellow autumnal leaves— 
for so looked the lumps and particles of gold — lie strewn 
in the glow of light. 

“The Golden Touch!” exclaimed he. “You cer- 
tainly deserve credit, friend Midas, for striking out so 
brilliant a conception. But are you quite sure that 
this will satisfy you?” 

“How could it fail?” said Midas. 

“And will you never regret the possession of it?” 

“What could induce me?” asked Midas. “I ask 
nothing else, to render me perfectly happy.” 

“Be it as you wish, then,” replied the stranger, waving 
his hand in token of farewell. “To-morrow, at sunrise, 
you will find yourself gifted with the Golden Touch.” 

The figure of the stranger then became exceedingly 
bright, and Midas involuntarily closed his eyes. On 
opening them again, he beheld only one yellow sun- 
beam in the room, and, all around him, the glistening 
of the precious metal which he had spent his life in 
hoarding up. 

Whether Midas slept as usual that night, the story 
does not say. Asleep or awake, however, his mind 
was probably in the state of a child’s, to whom a beau- 
tiful new plaything has been promised in the morning. 
At any rate, day had hardly peeped over the hills, when 
King Midas was broad awake, and, stretching his arms 
out of bed, began to touch the objects that were within 
reach. He was anxious to prove whether the Golden 
Touch had really come, according to the stranger’s 
promise. So he laid his finger on a chair by the bedside, 
and on various other things, but was grievously dis- 


98 Myths Every Child Should Know 

appointed to perceive that they remained of exactly the 
same substance as before. Indeed, he felt very much 
afraid that he had only dreamed about the lustrous 
stranger, or else that the latter had been making game 
of him. And what a miserable affair would it be, if, 
after all his hopes, Midas must content himself with 
what little gold he could scrape together by ordinary 
means, instead of creating it by a touch! 

All this while, it was only the gray of the morning, 
with but a streak of brightness along the edge of the 
sky, where Midas could not see it. He lay in a very 
disconsolate mood, regretting the downfall of his hopes 
and kept growing sadder and sadder, until the earliest 
sunbeam shone through the window, and gilded the 
ceiling over his head. It seemed to Midas that this 
bright yellow sunbeam was reflected in rather a singular 
way on the white covering of the bed. Looking more 
closely, what was his astonishment and delight, when 
he found that this linen fabric had been transmuted to 
what seemed a woven texture of the purest and brightest 
gold! The Golden Touch had come to him with the 
first sunbeam! 

Midas started up, in a kind of joyful frenzy, and ran 
about the room, grasping at everything that happened 
to be in his way. He seized one of the bedposts, and it 
became immediately a fluted golden pillar. He pulled 
aside a window curtain, in order to admit a clear spectacle 
of the wonders which he was performing; and the tassel 
grew heavy in his hand — a mass of gold. He took up a 
book from the table. At his first touch, it assumed the 
appearance of such a splendidly bound and gilt-edged 
volume as one often meets with, nowadays; but, on 
running his fingers through the leaves, behold! it was a 


The Golden Touch 


99 


bundle of thin golden plates, in which all the wisdom of 
the book had grown illegible. He hurriedly put on his 
clothes, and was enraptured to see himself in a magnficent 
suit of gold cloth, which retained its flexibility and 
softness, although it burdened him a little with its 
weight. He drew out his handkerchief, which little 
Marygold had hemmed for him. That was likewise 
gold, with the dear child’s neat and pretty stitches running 
all along the border, in gold thread! 

Somehow or other, this last transformation did not 
quite please King Midas. He would rather that his 
little daughter’s handiwork should have remained just 
the same as when she climbed his knee and put it into 
his hand. 

But it was not worth while to vex himself about a 
trifle. Midas now took his spectacles from his pocket, 
and put them on his nose, in order that he might see 
more distinctly what he was about. In those days, 
spectacles for common people had not been invented, 
but were already worn by kings; else, how could Midas 
have had any? To his great perplexity, however, 
excellent as the glasses were, he discovered that he 
could not possibly see through them. But this was 
the most natural thing in the world; for, on taking them 
off, the transparent crystals turned out to be plates of 
yellow metal, and, of course, were worthless as spectacles, 
though valuable as gold. It struck Midas as rather 
inconvenient that, with all his wealth, he could never 
again be rich enough to own a pair of serviceable spec- 
tacles. 

“It is no great matter, nevertheless,” said he to 
himself, very philosophically. “We cannot expect 
any great good, without its being accompanied with 


ioo Myths Every Child Shoidd Know 

some small inconvenience. The Golden Touch is 
worth the sacrifice of a pair of spectacles, at least, if 
not of one’s very eyesight. My own eyes will serve 
for ordinary purposes, and little Marygold will soon be 
old enough to read to me.” 

Wise King Midas was so exalted by his good fortune, 
that the palace seemed not sufficiently spacious to contain 
him. He therefore went downstairs, and smiled, on 
observing that the balustrade of the staircase became a 
bar of burnished gold, as his hand passed over it, in his 
descent. He lifted the doorlatch (it was brass only a 
moment ago, but golden when his fingers quitted it), and 
emerged into the garden. Here, as it happened, he 
found a great number of beautiful roses in full bloom, and 
others in all the stages of lovely bud and blossom. Very 
delicious was their fragrance in the morning breeze. 
Their delicate blush was one of the fairest sights in the 
world; so gentle, so modest, and so full of sweet tran- 
quillity, did these roses seem to be. 

But Midas knew a way to make them far more precious, 
according to his way of thinking, than roses had ever 
been before. So he took great pains in going from 
bush to bush, and exercised his magic touch most inde- 
fatigably; until every individual flower and bud, and 
even the worms at the heart of some of them, were 
changed to gold. By the time this good work was 
completed, King Midas was summoned to breakfast; and 
as the morning air had given him an excellent appetite, 
he made haste back to the palace. 

What was usually a kipg’s breakfast in the days of 
Midas, I really do not know, and cannot stop now to 
investigate. To the best of my belief, however, on this 
particular morning, the breakfast consisted of hot 


The Golden Touch 


IOI 


cakes, some nice little brook trout, roasted potatoes, 
fresh boiled eggs, and coffee, for King Midas himself, 
and a bowl of bread and milk for his daughter Marygold. 
At all events, this is a breakfast fit to set before a king; 
and, whether he had it or not, King Midas could not have 
had a better. 

Little Marygold had not yet made her appearance. 
Her father ordered her to be called, and, seating himself 
at table, awaited the child’s coming, in order to begin 
his own breakfast. To do Midas justice, he really 
loved his daughter, and loved her so much the more this 
morning, on account of the good fortune which had 
befallen him. It was not a great while before he heard 
her coming along the passageway crying bitterly. This 
circumstance surprised him, because Marygold was one 
of the cheerfullest little people whom you would see in a 
summer’s day, and hardly shed a thimbleful of tears in a 
twelvemonth. When Midas heard her sobs, he deter- 
mined to put little Marygold into better spirits, by an 
agreeable surprise; so, leaning across the table, he 
touched his daughter’s bowl (which was a china one, with 
pretty figures all around it), and transmuted it to gleaming 
gold. 

Meanwhile, Marygold slowly and disconsolately 
opened the door, and showed herself with her apron 
at her eyes, still sobbing as if her heart would break. 

“How now, my little lady!” cried Midas. “Pray 
what is the matter with you, this bright morning?” 

Marygold, without taking the apron from her eyes, 
held out her hand, in which was one of the roses which 
Midas had so recently transmuted. 

“Beautiful!” exclaimed her father. “And what is 
there in this magnificent golden rose to make you cry?” 


102 Myths Every Child Should Know 

“Ah, dear father!” answered the child, as well as 
her sobs would let her; “it is not beautiful, but the 
ugliest flower that ever grew! As soon as I was dressed 
I ran into the garden to gather some roses for you; 
because I know you like them, and like them the better 
when gathered by your little daughter. But, oh dear, 
dear me. What do you think has happened ? Such a mis- 
fortune! All the beautiful roses, that smelled so sweetly 
and had so many lovely blushes, are blighted and spoilt! 
They are grown quite yellow, as you see this one, and 
have no longer any fragrance! What can have been the 
matter with them?” 

“Poh, my dear little girl — pray don’t cry about it!” 
said Midas, who was ashamed to confess that he himself 
had wrought the change which so greatly afflicted her. 
“Sit down and eat your bread and milk! You will find 
it easy enough to exchange a golden rose like that (which 
will last hundreds of years) for an ordinary one which 
would wither in a day.” 

“I don’t care for such roses as this!” cried Marygold, 
tossing it contemptuously away. “It has no smell, 
and the hard petals prick my nose!” 

The child now sat down to table, but was so occupied 
with her grief for the blighted roses that she did not 
even notice the wonderful transmutation of her china 
bowl. Perhaps this was all the better; for Marygold 
was accustomed to take pleasure in looking at the queer 
figures, and strange trees and houses, that were painted 
on the circumference of the bowl; and these ornaments 
were now entirely lost in the yellow hue of the metal. 

Midas, meanwhile, had poured out a cup of coffee, and, 
as a matter of course, the coffe-pot, whatever metal it 
may have been when he took it up, was gold when he set 


The Golden Touch 


103 


it down. He thought to himself, that it was rather an 
extravagant style of splendour, in a king of his simple 
habits, to breakfast off a service of gold, and began to be 
puzzled with the difficulty of keeping his treasures 
safe. The cupboard and the kitchen would no longer 
be a secure place of deposit for articles so valuable as 
golden bowls and coffee-pots. 

Amid these thoughts, he lifted a spoonful of coffee to 
his lips, and, sipping it, was astonished to perceive that, 
the instant his lips touched the liquid, it became molten 
gold, and, the next moment, hardened into a lump! 

“Ha!” exclaimed Midas, rather aghast. 

“What is the matter, father?” asked little Mary- 
gold, gazing at him, with the tears still standing in 
her eyes. 

“Nothing, child, nothing!” said Midas. “Eat your 
milk, before it gets quite cold.” 

He took one of the nice little trouts on his plate, and, 
by way of experiment, touched its tail with his finger. 
To his horror, it was immediately transmuted from an 
admirably fried brook trout into a gold-fish, though 
not one of those gold-fishes which people often keep in 
glass globes, as ornaments for the parlour. No; but it 
was really a metallic fish, and looked as if it had been 
very cunningly made by the nicest goldsmith in the world. 
Its little bones were now golden wires; its fins and tail 
were thin plates of gold ; and there were the marks of the 
fork in it, and all the delicate, frothy appearance of a 
nicely fried fish, exactly imitated in metal. A very pretty 
piece of work, as you may suppose; only King Midas, 
just at that moment, would much rather have had a 
real trout in his dish than this elaborate and valuable 
imitation of one. 


104 


Myths Every Child Should Know 

“I don’t quite see,” thought he to himself, “how I 
am to get any breakfast!” 

He took one of the smoking-hot cakes, and had 
scarcely broken it, when, to his cruel mortification, 
though, a moment before, it had been of the whitest 
wheat, it assumed the yellow hue of Indian meal. To 
say the truth, if it had really been a hot Indian cake, 
Midas would have prized it a good deal more than he 
now did, when its solidity and increased weight made him 
too bitterly sensible that it was gold. Almost in despair, 
he helped himself to a boiled egg, which immediately 
underwent a change similar to those of the trout and the 
cake. The egg, indeed, might have been mistaken for 
one of those which the famous goose, in the story book, 
was in the habit of laying; but King Midas was the only 
goose that had had anything to do with the matter. 

“Well, this is a quandary!” thought he, leaning 
back in his chair, and looking quite enviously at little 
Marygold, who was now eating her bread and milk 
with great satisfaction. “Such a costly breakfast 
before me, and nothing that can be eaten!” 

Hoping that, by dint of great dispatch, he might 
avoid what he now felt to be a considerable inconvenience, 
King Midas next snatched a hot potato, and attempted 
to cram it into his mouth, and swallow it in a hurry. 
But the Golden Touch was too nimble for him. He 
found his mouth full, not of mealy potato, but of solid 
metal, which so burnt his tongue that he roared aloud, 
and, jumping up from the table, began to dance and 
stamp about the room, both with pain and affright. 

“Father, dear father!” cried little Marygold, who 
was a very affectionate child, “pray what is the matter? 
Have you burnt your mouth?” 


The Golden Touch 


«>5 

“Ah, dear child,” groaned' Midas, dolefully, “I 
don’t know what is to become of your poor father!” 

And, truly, my dear little folks, did you ever hear of 
such a pitiable case in all your lives ? Here was literally 
the richest breakfast that could be set before a king, and 
its very richness made it absolutely good for nothing. 
The poorest labourer, sitting down to his crust of bread 
and cup of water, was far better off than King Midas, 
whose delicate food was really worth its weight in gold. 
And what was to be done ? Already, at breakfast, Midas 
was excessively hungry. Would he be less so by dinner- 
time? And how ravenous would be his appetite for 
supper, which must undoubtedly consist of the same 
sort of indigestible dishes as those now before him! 
How many days, think you, would he survive a continu- 
ance of this rich fare ? 

These reflections so troubled wise King Midas, that 
he began to doubt whether, after all, riches are the one 
desirable thing in the world, or even the most desirable. 
But this was only a passing thought. So fascinated 
was Midas with the glitter of the yellow metal, that he 
would still have refused to give up the Golden Touch 
for so paltry a consideration as a breakfast. Just 
imagine what a price for one meal’s victuals! It would 
have been the same as paying millions and millions of 
money (and as many millions more as would take forever 
to reckon up) for some fried trout, an egg, a potato, a hot 
cake, and a cup of coffee! 

“It would be quite too dear,” thought Midas. 

Nevertheless, so great was his hunger, and the perplexity 
of his situation, that he again groaned aloud, and very 
grievously, too. Our pretty Marygold could endure it no 
longer. She sat, a moment, gazing at her father, and 


106 Myths Every Child Shoidd Know 

trying, with all the might of her little wits, to find out 
what was the matter with him. Then, with a sweet and 
sorrowful impulse to comfort him, she started from her 
chair, and, running to Midas, threw her arms affection- 
ately about his knees. He bent down and kissed her. 
He felt that his little daughter’s love was worth a thousand 
times more than he had gained by the Golden Touch. 

“My precious, precious Marygold!” cried he. 

But Marygold made no answer. 

Alas, what had he done? How fatal was the gift 
which the stranger bestowed! The moment the lips 
of Midas touched Marygold’s forehead, a change had 
taken place. Her sweet, rosy face, so full of affection 
as it had been, assumed a glittering yellow colour, with 
yellow tear-drops congealing on her cheeks. Her 
beautiful brown ringlets took the same tint. Her soft 
and tender little form grew hard and inflexible within 
her father’s encircling arms. Oh, terrible misfortune! 
The victim of his insatiable desire for wealth, little 
Marygold was a human child no longer, but a golden 
statue! 

Yes, there she was, with the questioning look of love, 
grief, and pity, hardened into her face. It was the 
prettiest and most woeful sight that ever mortal saw. 
All the features and tokens of Marygold were there; 
even the beloved little dimple remained in her golden 
chin. But, the more perfect was the resemblance, the 
greater was the father’s agony at beholding this golden 
image, which was all that was left him of a daughter. 
It had been a favourite phrase of Midas, whenever he 
felt particularly fond of the child, to say that she was 
worth her weight in gold. And now the phrase had 
become literally true. And, now, at last, when it was 


The Golden Touch 


io 7 


too late, he felt how infinitely a warm and tender heart, 
that loved him, exceeded in value all the wealth that 
could be piled up betwixt the earth and sky! 

It would be too sad a story, if I were to tell you how 
Midas, in the fulness of all his gratified desires, began 
to wring his hands and bemoan himself; and how he 
could neither bear to look at Marygold, nor yet to look 
away from her. Except when his eyes were fixed on 
the image, he could not possibly believe that she was 
changed to gold. But, stealing another glance, there 
was the precious little figure, with a yellow tear-drop 
on its yellow cheek, and a look so piteous and tender, 
that it seemed as if that very expression must needs 
soften the gold, and make it flesh again. This, how- 
ever, could not be. So Midas had only to wring his 
hands, and to wish that he were the poorest man in 
the wide world, if the loss of all his wealth might bring 
back the faintest rose colour to his dear child’s face. 

While he was in this tumult of despair, he suddenly 
beheld a stranger standing near the door. Midas bent 
down his head, without speaking; for he recognised 
the same figure which had appeared to him, the day 
before, in the treasure-room, and had bestowed on him 
this disastrous faculty of the Golden Touch. The 
stranger’s countenance still wore a smile, which seemed 
to shed a yellow lustre all about the room, and gleamed 
on little Marygold’s image, and on the other objects 
that had been transmuted by the touch of Midas. 

“Well, friend Midas,” said the stranger, “pray how 
do you succeed with the Golden Touch?” 

Midas shook his head. 

“I am very miserable,” said he. 

“Very miserable, indeed!” exclaimed the stranger. 


108 Myths Every Child Should Know 

“And how happens that? Have I not faithfully kept 
my promise with you? Have you not everything that 
your heart desired?” 

“Gold is not everything,” answered Midas. “And 
I have lost all that my heart really cared for.” 

“Ah! So you have made a discovery, since yester- 
day ? ” observed the stranger. “ Let us see, then. Which 
of these two things do you think is really worth the 
most — the gift of the Golden Touch, or one cup of clear 
cold water?” 

“O blessed water!” exclaimed Midas. “I will 
never moisten my parched throat again!” 

“The Golden Touch,” continued the stranger, “or 
a crust of bread ? ” 

“A piece of bread,” answered Midas, “is worth all 
the gold on earth!” 

“The Golden Touch,” asked the stranger, “or your 
own little Marygold, warm, soft, and loving as she was 
an hour ago?” 

“Oh, my child, my dear child!” cried poor Midas, 
wringing his hands. “I would not have given that 
one small dimple in her chin for the power of changing 
this whole big earth into a solid lump of gold!” 

“You are wiser than you were, King Midas!” said 
the stranger, looking seriously at him. “Your own 
heart, I perceive, has not been entirely changed from 
flesh to gold. Were it so, your case would indeed be 
desperate. But you appear to be still capable of under- 
standing that the commonest things, such as lie within 
everybody’s grasp, are more valuable than the riches 
which so many mortals sigh and struggle after. Tell 
me, now, do you sincerely desire to rid yourself of this 
Golden Touch?” 


The Golden Touch 


109 


“It is hateful to me!” replied Midas. 

A fly settled on his nose, but immediately fell to the 
floor; for it, too, had become gold. Midas shuddered. 

“Go, then,” said the stranger, “and plunge into the 
river that glides past the bottom of your garden. Take 
likewise a vase of the same water, and sprinkle it over 
any object that you may desire to change back again 
from gold into its former substance. If you do this in 
earnestness and sincerity, it may possibly repair the 
mischief which your avarice has occasioned.” 

King Midas bowed low; and when he lifted his head, 
the lustrous stranger had vanished. 

You will easily believe that Midas lost no time in 
snatching up a great earthen pitcher (but, alas me! 
it was no longer earthen after he touched it), and hasten- 
ing to the river-side. As he scampered along, and 
forced his way through the shrubbery, it was positively 
marvellous to see how the foliage turned yellow behind 
him, as if the autumn had been there, and nowhere else. 
On reaching the river’s brink, he plunged headlong in, 
without waiting so much as to pull off his shoes. 

“Poof! poof! poof!” snorted King Midas, as his head 
emerged out of the water. “Well; this is really a re- 
freshing bath, and I think it must have quite washed 
away the Golden Touch. And now for filling my 
pitcher!” 

As he dipped the pitcher into the water, it gladdened 
his very heart to see it change from gold into the same 
good, honest earthen vessel which it had been before he 
touched it. He was conscious, also, of a change within 
himself. A cold, hard, and heavy weight seemed 
to have gone out of his bosom. No doubt, his heart 
had been gradually losing its human substance, and 


no Myths Every Child Should Know 

transmuting itself into insensible metal, but had now 
softened back again into flesh. Perceiving a violet, 
that grew on the bank of the river, Midas touched it with 
his finger, and was overjoyed to find that the delicate 
flower retained its purple hue, instead of undergoing a 
yellow blight. The curse of the Golden Touch had, 
therefore, really been removed from him. 

King Midas hastened back to the palace; and, I 
suppose, the servants knew not what to make of it when 
they saw their royal master so carefully bringing home 
an earthen pitcher of water. But that water, which was 
to undo all the mischief that his folly had wrought, was 
more precious to Midas than an ocean of molten gold 
could have been. The first thing he did, as you need 
hardly be told, was to sprinkle it by handfuls over the 
golden figure of little Marygold. 

No sooner did it fall on her than you would have 
laughed to see how the rosy colour came back to the 
dear child’s cheek! and how she began to sneeze and 
sputter! — and how astonished she was to find herself 
dripping wet, and her father still throwing more water 
over her! 

‘‘Pray do not, dear father!” cried she. “See how 
you have wet my nice frock, which I put on only this 
morning!” 

For Marygold did not know that she had been a little 
golden statue; nor could she remember anything that had 
happened since the moment when she ran with out- 
stretched arms to comfort poor King Midas. 

Her father did not think it necessary to tell his beloved 
child how very foolish he had been, but contented himself 
with showing how much wiser he had now grown. For 
this purpose, he led little Marygold into the garden, 


The Golden Touch 


hi 


where he sprinkled all the remainder of the water over 
the rose-bushes, and with such good effect that above 
five thousand roses recovered their beautiful bloom. 
There were two circumstances, however, which, as long 
as he lived, used to put King Midas in mind of the 
Golden Touch. One was, that the sands of the river 
sparkled like gold; the other, that little Marygold’s hair 
had now a golden tinge, which he had never observed in 
it before she had been transmuted by the effect of his 
kiss. This change of hue was really an improvement, and 
made Marygold’s hair richer than in her babyhood. 

When King Midas had grown quite an old man, and 
used to trot Marygold’s children on his knee, he was 
fond of telling them this marvellous story, pretty much 
as I have now told it to you. And then would he stroke 
their glossy ringlets, and tell them that their hair, like- 
wise, had a rich shade of gold, which they had inherited 
from their mother. 

“And to tell you the truth, my precious little folks,” 
quoth King Midas, diligently trotting the children all 
the while, “ever since that morning, I have hated the 
very sight of all other gold, save this!” 


CHAPTER V 


THE GORGON’S HEAD 

Perseus was the son of Danae, who was the daughter 
of a king. And when Perseus was a very little boy, 
some wicked people put his mother and himself into a 
chest, and set them afloat upon the sea. The wind 
blew freshly, and drove the chest away from the shore, 
and the uneasy billows tossed it up and down; while 
Danae clasped her child closely to her bosom, and 
dreaded that some big wave would dash its foamy crest 
over them both. The chest sailed on, however, and 
neither sank nor was upset; until, when night was 
coming, it floated so near an island that it got entangled 
in a fisherman’s nets, and was drawn out high and dry 
upon the sand. The island was called Seriphus, and it 
was reigned over by King Polydectes, who happened to i 
be the fisherman’s brother. 

This fisherman, I am glad to tell you, was an exceed- 
ingly humane and upright man. He showed great 
kindness to Danae and her little boy; and continued 
to befriend them, until Perseus had grown to be a hand- 
some youth, very strong and active, and skilful in the use 
of arms. Long before this time, King Polydectes had 
seen the two strangers — the mother and her child — who 
had come to his dominions in a floating chest. As he 
was not good and kind, like his brother the fisherman, but 
extremely wicked, he resolved to send Perseus on a 


The Gorgon’s Head 


11 3 

dangerous enterprise, in which he would probably be 
killed, and then to do some great mischief to Danae 
herself. So this bad-hearted king spent a long while 
in considering what was the most dangerous thing that 
a young man could possibly undertake to perform. At 
last, having hit upon an enterprise that promised to turn 
out as fatally as he desired, he sent for the youthful 
Perseus. 

The young man came to the palace, and found the 
king sitting upon his throne. 

“Perseus,” said King Polydectes, smiling craftily 
upon him, “you are grown up a fine young man. You 
and your good mother have received a great deal of 
kindness from myself, as well as from my worthy brother 
the fisherman, and I suppose you would not be sorry to 
repay some of it.” 

“Please, Your Majesty,” answered Perseus, “I would 
willingly risk my life to do so.” 

“Well, then,” continued the king, still with a cunning 
smile on his lips, “I have a little adventure to propose to 
you; and, as you are a brave and enterprising youth, 
you will doubtless look upon it as a great piece of good 
luck to have so rare an opportunity of distinguishing your- 
self. You must know, my good Perseus, I think of 
getting married to the beautiful Princess Hippodamia; 
and it is customary, on these occasions, to make the bride 
a present of some far-fetched and elegant curiosity. I 
have been a little perplexed, I must honestly confess, 
where to obtain anything likely to please a princess of 
her exquisite taste. But, this morning, I flatter myself, 
I have thought of precisely the article.” 

“And can I assist Your Majesty in obtaining it?” 
cried Perseus, eagerly. 


1 14 Myths Every Child Should Know 

“You can, if you are as brave a youth as I believe 
you to be,” replied King Polydectes, with the utmost 
graciousness of manner. “The bridal gift which I 
have set my heart on presenting to the beautiful Hip- 
podamia is the head of the Gorgon Medusa with the 
snaky locks; and I depend on you, my dear Perseus, to 
bring it to me. So, as I am anxious to settle affairs with 
the princess, the sooner you go in quest of the Gorgon, 
the better I shall be pleased.” 

“I will set out to-morrow morning,” answered Perseus. 

“Pray do so, my gallant youth,” rejoined the king. 
“And, Peipus, in cutting off the Gorgon’s head, be 
careful to make a clean stroke, so as not to injure its 
appearance. You must bring it home in the very best 
condition, in order to suit the exquisite taste of the 
beautiful Princess Hippodamia.” 

Perseus left the palace, but was scarcely out of hearing 
before Polydectes burst into a laugh; being greatly 
amused, wicked king that he was, to find how readily 
the young man fell into the snare. The news quickly 
spread abroad that Perseus had undertaken to cut off the 
head of Medusa with the snaky locks. Everybody was 
rejoiced; for most of the inhabitants of the island were 
as wicked as the king himself, and would have liked 
nothing better than to see some enormous mischief happen 
to Danae and her son. The only good man in this un- 
fortunate island of Seriphus appears to have been the 
fisherman. As Perseus walked along, therefore, the 
people pointed after him, and made mouths, and winked 
to one another, and ridiculed him as loudly as they dared. 

“Ho, ho!” cried they; “Medusa’s snakes will sting 
him soundly!” 

Now, there were three Gorgons alive at that period; 


The Gorgon's Head 115 

and they were the most strange and terrible monsters 
that had ever been since the world was made, or that 
have been seen in after days, or that are likely to be 
seen in all time to come. I hardly know what sort of 
creature or hobgoblin to call them. They were three 
sisters, and seem to have borne some distant resemblance 
to women, but were really a very frightful and mischievous 
species of dragon. It is, indeed, difficult to imagine 
what hideous beings these three sisters were. Why, 
instead of locks of hair, if you can believe me, they had 
each of them a hundred enormous snakes growing on 
their heads, all alive, twisting, wriggling, curling, and 
thrusting out their venomous tongues, with forked 
stings at the end! The teeth of the Gorgons were terribly 
long tusks; their hands were made of brass; and their 
bodies were all over scales, which, if not iron, were 
something as hard and impenetrable. They had wings, 
too, and exceedingly splendid ones, I can assure you; 
for every feather in them was pure, bright, glittering, 
burnished gold, and they looked very dazzlingly, no 
doubt, when the Gorgons were flying about in the 
sunshine. 

But when people happened to catch a glimpse of 
their glittering brightness, aloft in the air, they seldom 
stopped to gaze, but ran and hid themselves as speedily 
as they could. You will think, perhaps, that they were 
afraid of being stung by the serpents that served the 
Gorgons instead of hair — or of having their heads 
bitten off by their ugly tusks — or of being torn all to 
pieces by their brazen claws. Well, to be sure, these 
were some of the dangers, but by no means the greatest, 
nor the most difficult to avoid. For the worst thing 
about these abominable Gorgons was, that, if once a 


n6 Myths Every Child Should Know 

poor mortal fixed his eyes full upon one of their faces, 
he was certain, that very instant, to be changed from 
warm flesh and blood into cold and lifeless stone! 

Thus, as you will easily perceive, it was a very dan- 
gerous adventure that the wicked King Polydectes had 
contrived for this innocent young man. Perseus him- 
self, when he had thought over the matter, could not 
help seeing that he had very little chance of coming 
safely through it, and that he was far more likely to 
become a stone image than to bring back the head of 
Medusa with the snaky locks. For, not to speak of 
other difficulties, there was one which it would have 
puzzled an older man than Perseus to get over. Not 
only must he fight with and slay this golden-winged, 
iron-scaled, long-tusked, brazen-clawed, snaky-haired 
monster, but he must do it with his eyes shut, or, at 
least, without so much as a glance at the enemy with 
whom he was contending. Else, while his arm was 
lifted to strike, he would stiffen into stone, and stand 
with that uplifted arm for centuries, until time, and 
the wind and weather, should crumble him quite away. 
This would be a very sad thing to befall a young man 
who wanted to perform a great many brave deeds, and 
to enjoy a great deal of happiness, in this bright and 
beautiful world. 

So disconsolate did these thoughts make him, that 
Perseus could not bear to tell his mother what he had 
undertaken to do. He therefore took his shield, girded 
on his sword, and crossed over from the island to the 
mainland, where he sat down in a solitary place, and 
hardly refrained from shedding tears. 

But, while he was in this sorrowful mood, he heard 
a voice close beside him. 


The Gorgon’s Head 117 

“Perseus,” said the voice, “why are you sad?” 

He lifted his head from his hands, in which he had 
hidden it, and, behold! all alone as Perseus had sup- 
posed himself to be, there was a stranger in the solitary 
place. It was a brisk, intelligent, and remarkably 
shrewd-looking young man, with a cloak over his shoul- 
ders, an odd sort of cap on his head, a strangely twisted 
staff in his hand, and a short and very crooked sword 
hanging by his side. He was exceedingly light and 
active in his figure, like a person much accustomed 
to gymnastic exercises, and well able to leap or run. 
Above all, the stranger had such a cheerful, knowing, 
and helpful aspect (though it was certainly a little 
mischievous, into the bargain), that Perseus could not 
help feeling his spirits grow livelier as he gazed at him. 
Besides, being really a courageous youth, he felt greatly 
ashamed that anybody should have found him with tears 
in his eyes, like a timid little schoolboy, when, after 
all, there might be no occasion for despair. So Perseus 
wiped his eyes, and answered the stranger pretty briskly, 
putting on as brave a look as he could. 

“I am not so very sad,” said he, “only thoughtful 
about an adventure that I have undertaken.” 

“Oho!” answered the stranger. “Well, tell me 
all about it, and possibly I may be of service to you. 
I have helped a good many young men through adven- 
tures that looked difficult enough beforehand. Perhaps 
you may have heard of me. I have more names than 
one; but the name of Quicksilver suits me as well as any 
other. Tell me what the trouble is, and we will talk 
the matter over, and see what can be done.” 

The stranger’s words and manner put Perseus into 
quite a different mood from his former one. He re- 


n8 Myths Every Child Should Know 

solved to tell Quicksilver all his difficulties, since he 
could not easily be worse off than he already was, and, 
very possibly, his new friend might give him some ad- 
vice that would turn out well in the end. So he let the 
stranger know, in few words, precisely what the case was, 
— how that King Polydectes wanted the head of Medusa 
with the snaky locks as a bridal gift for the beautiful 
Princess Hippodamia, and how that he had undertaken 
to get it for him, but was afraid of being turned into stone. 

“And that would be a great pity,” said Quicksilver, 
with his mischievous smile. “You would make a very 
handsome marble statue, it is true, and it would be a 
considerable number of centuries before you crumbled 
away; but, on the whole, one would rather be a young 
man for a few years, than a stone image for a great 
many.” 

“Oh, far rather!” exclaimed Perseus, with the tears 
again standing in his eyes. “And, besides, what would 
my dear mother do, if her beloved son were turned into 
a stone?” 

“Well, well, let us hope that the affair will not turn 
out so very badly,” replied Quicksilver, in an encouraging 
tone. “I am the very person to help you, if anybody 
can. My sister and myself will do our utmost to bring 
you safe through the adventure, ugly as it now looks.” 

“Your sister?” repeated Perseus. 

“Yes, my sister,” said the stranger. “She is very 
wise, I promise you; and as for myself, I generally have 
all my wits about me, such as they are. If you show 
yourself bold and cautious, and follow our advice, you 
need not fear being a stone image yet awhile. But, 
first of all, you must polish your shield, till you can see 
your face in it as distinctly as in a mirror.” 


The Gorgon's Head 119 

This seemed to Perseus rather an odd beginning of 
the adventure; for he thought it of far more consequence 
that the shield should be strong enough to defend him 
from the Gorgon’s brazen claws, than that it should 
be bright enough to show him the reflection of his face. 
However, concluding that Quicksilver knew better 
than himself, he immediately set to work, and scrubbed 
the shield with so much diligence and good-will, that it 
very quickly shone like the moon at harvest time. Quick- 
silver looked at it with a smile, and nodded his approba- 
tion. Then, taking off his own short and crooked sword, 
he girded it about Perseus, instead of the one which he 
had before worn. 

“No sword but mine will answer your purpose,” ob- 
served he; “the blade has a most excellent temper, and 
will cut through iron and brass as easily as through 
the slenderest twig. And now we will set out. The 
next thing is to find the Three Gray Women, who will 
tell us where to find the Nymphs.” 

“The Three Gray Women!” cried Perseus, to whom 
this seemed only a new difficulty in the path of his 
adventure; “pray who may the Three Gray Women be? 
I never heard of them before.” 

“They are three very strange old ladies,” said Quick- 
silver, laughing. “They have but one eye among them, 
and only one tooth. Moreover, you must find them out 
by starlight, or in the dusk of the evening; for they never 
show themselves by the light either of the sun or moon.” 

“But,” said Perseus, “why should I waste my time 
with these Three Gray Women? Would it not be 
better to set out at once in search of the terrible Gor- 
gons?” 

“No, no,” answered his friend. “There are other 


120 Myths Every Child Should Know 

things to be done, before you can find your way to the 
Gorgons. There is nothing for it but to hunt up these 
old ladies; and when we meet with them, you may be 
sure that the Gorgons are not a great way off. Come, 
let us be stirring !” 

Perseus, by this time, felt so much confidence in his 
companion’s sagacity, that he made no more objections, 
and professed himself ready to begin the adventure im- 
mediately. They accordingly set out, and walked at a 
pretty brisk pace; so brisk, indeed, that Perseus found 
it rather difficult to keep up with his nimble friend 
Quicksilver. To say the truth, he had a singular idea 
that Quicksilver was furnished with a pair of winged 
shoes, which, of course, helped him along marvellously. 
And then, too, when Perseus looked sideways at him 
out of the corner of his eye, he seemed to see wings 
on the side of his head; although, if he turned a full 
gaze, there were no such things to be perceived, but only 
an odd kind of cap. But, at all events, the twisted 
staff was evidently a great convenience to Quicksilver, 
and enabled him to proceed so fast, that Perseus, though 
a remarkably active young man, began to be out of 
breath. 

“Here!” cried Quicksilver, at last — for he knew 
well enough, rogue that he was, how hard Perseus 
found it to keep pace with him — “take you the staff, 
for you need it a great deal more than I. Are there 
no better walkers than yourself in the island of Seriphus ?” 

“I could walk pretty well,” said Perseus, glancing 
slyly at his companion’s feet, “if I had only a pair of 
winged shoes.” 

“We must see about getting you a pair,” answered 
Quicksilver. 


The Gorgon’s Head 


121 


But the staff helped Perseus along so bravely, that 
he no longer felt the slightest weariness. In fact, the 
stick seemed to be alive in his hand, and to lend some 
of its life to Perseus. He and Quicksilver now walked 
onward at their ease, talking very sociably together; 
and Quicksilver told so many pleasant stories about his 
former adventures, and how well his wits had served 
him on various occasions, that Perseus began to think 
him a very wonderful person. He evidently knew the 
world; and nobody is so charming to a young man as 
a friend who has that kind of knowledge. Perseus 
listened the more eagerly, in the hope of brightening 
his own wits by what he heard. 

At last, he happened to recollect that Quicksilver 
had spoken of a sister, who was to lend her assistance 
in the adventure which they were now bound upon. 

“Where is she?” he inquired. “Shall we not meet 
her soon?” 

“All at the proper time,” said his companion. “But 
this sister of mine, you must understand, is quite a differ- 
ent sort of character from myself. She is very grave and 
prudent, seldom smiles, never laughs, and makes it a 
rule not to utter a word unless she has something particu- 
larly profound to say. Neither will she listen to any but 
the wisest conversation.” 

“Dear me!” ejaculated Perseus; “I shall be afraid 
to say a syllable.” 

“She is a very accomplished person, I assure you,” 
continued Quicksilver, “and has all the arts and sciences 
at her fingers’ ends. In short, she is so immoderately 
wise, that many people call her wisdom personified. 
But, to tell you the truth, she has hardly vivacity enough 
for my taste; and I think you would scarcely find her so 


122 Myths Every Child Shoidd Know 

pleasant a travelling companion as myself. She has her 
good points, nevertheless; and you will find the benefit 
of them, in your encounter with the Gorgons.” 

By this time it had grown quite dusk. They were 
now come to a very wild and desert place, overgrown 
with shaggy bushes, and so silent and solitary that nobody 
seemed ever to have dwelt or journeyed there. All was 
waste and desolate, in the gray twilight, which grew 
every moment more obscure. Perseus looked about him, 
rather disconsolately, and asked Quicksilver whether 
they had a great deal farther to go. 

“Hist! hist!” whispered his companion. “Make 
no noise! This is just the time and place to meet the 
Three Gray Women. Be careful that they do not see 
you before you see them; for, though they have but a 
single eye among the three, it is as sharp sighted as half 
a dozen common eyes.” 

“But what must I do,” asked Perseus, “when we 
meet them?” 

Quicksilver explained to Perseus how the Three 
Gray Women managed with their one eye. They 
were in the habit, it seems, of changing it from one to 
another, as if it had been a pair of spectacles, or — 
which would have suited them better — a quizzing 
glass. When one of the three had kept the eye a certain 
time, she took it out of the socket and passed it to one 
of her sisters, whose turn it might happen to be, and who 
immediately clapped it into her own head, and enjoyed 
a peep at the visible world. Thus it will easily be 
understood that only one of the Three Gray Women 
could see, while the other two were in utter darkness; and, 
moreover, at the instant when the eye was passing from 
hand to hand, neither of the poor old ladies was able to 


The Gorgon’s Head 


123 


see a wink. I have heard of a great many strange things, 
in my day, and have witnessed not a few; but none, it 
seems to me, that can compare with the oddity of these 
Three Gray Women, all peeping through a single eye. 

So thought Perseus, likewise, and was so astonished 
that he almost fancied his companion was joking with 
him, and that there were no such old women in the 
world. 

“You will soon find whether I tell the truth or no,” 
observed Quicksilver. * “Hark! hush! hist! hist! There 
they come, now!” 

Perseus looked earnestly through the dusk of the 
evening, and there, sure enough, at no great distance 
off, he descried the Three Gray Women. The light 
being so faint, he could not well make out what sort 
of figures they were; only he discovered that they had 
long gray hair; and, as they came nearer, he saw that 
two of them had but the empty socket of an eye, in the 
middle of their foreheads. But, in the middle of the 
third sister’s forehead, there was a very large, bright, and 
piercing eye, which sparkled like a great diamond in a 
ring; and so penetrating did it seem to be, that Perseus 
could not help thinking it must possess the gift of seeing 
in the darkest midnight just as perfectly as at noonday. 
The sight of three persons’ eyes was melted and collected 
into that single one. 

Thus the three old dames got along about as com- 
fortably, upon the whole, as if they could all see at once. 
She who chanced to have the eye in her forehead led the 
other two by the hands, peeping sharply about her, all 
the while; insomuch that Perseus dreaded lest she should 
see right through the thick clump of bushes behind which 
he and Quicksilver had hidden themselves. My stars! 


124 Myths Every Child Should Know 

it was positively terrible to be within reach of so very 
sharp an eye! 

But, before they reached the clump of bushes, one 
of the Three Gray Women spoke. 

“ Sister! Sister Scarecrow!’’ cried she, “you have 
had the eye long enough. It is my turn now!” 

“Let me keep it a moment longer, Sister Nightmare,” 
answered Scarecrow. “I thought I had a glimpse of 
something behind that thick bush.” 

“Well, and what of that?” - retorted Nightmare, 
peevishly. “Can’t I see into a thick bush as easily as 
yourself? The eye is mine as well as yours; and I 
know the use of it as well as you, or maybe a little 
better. I insist upon taking a peep immediately!” 

But here the third sister, whose name was Shakejoint, 
began to complain, and said that it was her turn to have 
the eye, and that Scarecrow and Nightmare wanted to 
keep it all to themselves. To end the dispute, old Dame 
Scarecrow took the eye out of her forehead, and held it 
forth in her hand. 

“Take it, one of you,” cried she, “and quit this foolish 
quarrelling. For my part, I shall be glad of a little 
thick darkness. Take it quickly, however, or I must 
clap it into my own head again!” 

Accordingly, both Nightmare and Shakejoint put 
out their hands, groping eagerly to snatch the eye out 
of the hand of Scarecrow. But, being both alike blind, 
they could not easily find where Scarecrow’s hand was; 
and Scarecrow, being now just as much in the dark as 
Shakejoint and Nightmare, could not at once meet 
either of their hands, in order to put the eye into it. 
Thus (as you will see, with half an eye, my wise little 
auditors), these good old dames had fallen into a strange 


The Gorgon’s Head 


I2 5 

perplexity. For, though the eye shone and glistened like 
a star, as Scarecrow held it out, yet the Gray Women 
caught not the least glimpse of its light, and were all three 
in utter darkness, from too impatient a desire to see. 

Quicksilver was so much tickled at beholding Shake- 
joint and Nightmare both groping for the eye, and each 
finding fault with Scarecrow and one another, that he 
could scarcely help laughing aloud. 

“Now is your time ! ” he whispered to Perseus. “ Quick, 
quick! before they can clap the eye into either of their 
heads. Rush out upon the old ladies, and snatch it from 
Scarecrow’s hand!” 

In an instant, while the Three Gray Women were 
still scolding each other, Perseus leaped from behind 
the clump of bushes, and made himself master of the 
prize. The marvellous eye, as he held it in his hand, 
shone very brightly, and seemed to look up into his 
face with a knowing air, and an expression as if it would 
have winked, had it been provided with a pair of eyelids 
for that purpose. But the Gray Women knew nothing 
of what had happened; and, each supposing that one of 
her sisters was in possession of the eye, they began their 
quarrel anew. At last, as Perseus did not wish to put 
these respectable dames to greater inconvenience than 
was really necessary, he thought it right to explain the 
matter. 

“My good ladies,” said he, “pray do not be angry 
with one another. If anybody is in fault, it is myself; 
for I have the honour to hold your very brilliant and 
excellent eye in my own hand!” 

“You! you have our eye! And who are you?” 
screamed the Three Gray Women, all in a breath; for 
they were terribly frightened, of course, at hearing a 


126 Myths Every Child Should Know 

strange voice, and discovering that their eyesight had 
got into the hands of they could not guess whom. “Oh, 
what shall we do, sisters? what shall we do? We 
are all in the dark! Give us our eye! Give us our 
one, precious, solitary eye! You have two of your own! 
Give us our eye!” 

“Tell them,” whispered Quicksilver to Perseus, 
“that they shall have back the eye as soon as they direct 
you where to find the Nymphs who have the flying 
slippers, the magic wallet, and the helmet of darkness.” 

“My dear, good, admirable old ladies,” said Perseus, 
addressing the Gray Women, “there is no occasion for 
putting yourselves into such a fright. I am by no 
♦ means a bad young man. You shall have back your 
eye, safe and sound, and as bright as ever, the moment 
you tell me where to find the Nymphs.” 

“The Nymphs! Goodness me! sisters, whai Nymphs 
does he mean?” screamed Scarecrow. “There are a 
great many Nymphs, people say; some that go a hunting 
in the woods, and some that live inside of trees, and 
some that have a comfortable home in fountains of 
water. We know nothing at all about them. We 
are three unfortunate old souls, that go wandering 
about in the dusk, and never had but one eye amongst 
us, and that one you have stolen away. Oh, give it 
back, good stranger! — whoever you are, give it back!” 

All this while the Three Gray Women were groping 
with their outstretched hands, and trying their utmost to 
get hold of Perseus. But he took good care to keep 
out of their reach. 

“My respectable dames,” said he — for his mother 
had taught him always to use the greatest civility — 
“I hold your eye fast in my hand, and shall keep it 


The Gorgon's Head 


127 


safely for you, until you please to tell me where to find 
these Nymphs. The Nymphs, I mean, who keep the 
enchanted wallet, the flying slippers, and the what is it ? 
— the helmet of invisibility.” 

4 ‘Mercy on us, sisters! what is the young man talking 
about?” exclaimed Scarecrow, Nightmare and Shake- 
joint, one to another, with great appearance of astonish- 
ment. “A pair of flying slippers, quoth he! His heels 
would quickly fly higher than his head, if he was silly 
enough to put them on. And a helmet of invisibility! 
How could a helmet make him invisible, unless it were 
big enough for him to hide under it ? And an enchanted 
wallet! What sort of a contrivance may that be, I 
wonder? No, no, good stranger! we can tell you nothing 
of these marvellous things. You have two eyes of your 
own, and we have but a single one amongst us three. You 
can find out such wonders better than three blind old 
creatures, like us.” 

Perseus, hearing them talk in this way, began really 
to think that the Gray Women knew nothing of the 
matter; and, as it grieved him to have put them to so 
much trouble, he was just on the point of restoring their 
eye and asking pardon for his rudeness in snatching it 
away. But Quicksilver caught his hand. 

“ Don’t let them make a fool of you ! ” said he. “These 
Three Gray Women are the only persons in the world 
that can tell you where to find the Nymphs; and, unless 
you get that information, you will never succeed in cutting 
off the head of Medusa with the snaky locks. Keep fast 
hold of the eye, and all will go well.” 

As it turned out, Quicksilver was in the right. There 
are but few things that people prize so much as they do 
their eyesight; and the Gray Women valued their single 


128 Myths Every Child Should Know 

eye as highly as if it had been half a dozen, which was the 
number they ought to have had. Finding that there was 
no other way of recovering it, they at last told Perseus 
what he wanted to know. No sooner had they done so, 
than he immediately, and with the utmost respect, clapped 
the eye into the vacant socket in one of their foreheads, 
thanked them for their kindness, and bade them farewell. 
Before the young man was out of hearing, however, they 
had got into a new dispute, because he happened to have 
given the eye to Scarecrow, who had already taken her 
turn of it when their trouble with Perseus commenced. 

It is greatly to be feared that the Three Gray Women 
were very much in the habit of disturbing their mutual 
harmony by bickerings of this sort; which was the more 
pity, as they could not conveniently do without one 
another, and were evidently intended to be inseparable 
companions. As a general rule, I would advise all 
people, whether sisters or brothers, old or young, who 
chance to have but one eye amongst them, to cultivate 
forbearance, and not all insist upon peeping through it 
at once. 

Quicksilver and Perseus, in the meantime, were mak- $ 
ing the best of their way in quest of the Nymphs. The 
old dames had given them such particular directions 
that they were not long in finding them out. They proved 
to be very different persons from Nightmare, Shake- 
joint and Scarecrow; for, instead of being old, they were 
young and beautiful; and instead of one eye amongst 
the sisterhood, each Nymph had two exceedingly bright 
eyes of her own, with which she looked very kindly at 
Perseus. They seemed to be acquainted with Quick- 
silver; and, when he told them the adventure which 
Perseus had undertaken, they made no difficulty about 


The Gorgon’s Head 


129 


giving him the valuable articles that were in their custody 
In the first place, they brought out what appeared to be 
a small purse, made of deer skin, and curiously embroid- 
ered, and bade him be sure and keep it safe. This was 
the magic wallet. The Nymphs next produced a pair 
of shoes, or slippers, or sandals, with a nice little pair of 
wings at the heel of each. 

“Put them on, Perseus,” said Quicksilver. “You 
will find yourself as light heeled as you can desire for 
the remainder of our journey.” 

So Perseus proceeded to put one of the slippers on, 
while he laid the other on the ground by his side. Unex- 
pectedly, however, this other slipper spread its wings, 
fluttered up off the ground, and would probably have 
flown away, if Quicksilver had not made a leap, and 
luckily caught it in the air. 

“Be more careful,” said he, as he gave it back to 
Perseus. “It would frighten the birds, up aloft, if 
they should see a flying slipper amongst them.” 

When Perseus had got on both of these wonderful 
slippers, he was altogether too buoyant to tread on earth. 
Making a step or two, lo and behold! upward he popped 
into the air, high above the heads of Quicksilver and the 
Nymphs, and found it very difficult to clamber down 
again. Winged slippers, and all such high-flying con- 
trivances, are seldom quite easy to manage until one 
grows a little accustomed to them. Quicksilver laughed 
at his companion’s involuntary activity, and told him 
that he must not be in so desperate a hurry, but must 
wait for the invisible helmet. 

The good-natured Nymphs had the helmet, with its 
dark tuft of waving plumes, all in readiness to put upon 
his head. And now there happened about as wonderful 


130 Myths Every Child Should Know 

an incident as anything that I have yet told you. The 
instant before the helmet was put on, there stood Perseus, 
a beautiful young man, with golden ringlets and rosy 
cheeks, the crooked sword by his side, and the brightly 
polished shield upon his arm — a figure that seemed all 
made up of courage, sprightliness, and glorious light. 
But when the helmet had descended over his white brow, 
there was no longer any Perseus to be seen! Nothing 
but empty air! Even the helmet, that covered him with 
its invisibility, had vanished! 

“Where are you, Perseus ?” asked Quicksilver. 

“Why, here, to be sure!” answered Perseus, very 
quietly, although his voice seemed to come out of the 
transparent atmosphere. “Just where I was a moment 
ago. Don’t you see me?” 

“No, indeed!” answered his friend. “You are hidden 
under the helmet. But, if I cannot see you, neither 
can the Gorgons. Follow me, therefore, and we will 
try your dexterity in using the winged slippers.” 

With these words, Quicksilver’s cap spread its wings, 
as if his head were about to fly away from his shoulders; 
but his whole figure rose lightly into the air, and Perseus 
followed. By the time they had ascended a few hundred 
feet, the young man began to feel what a delightful 
thing it was to leave the dull earth so far beneath him, 
and to be able to flit about like a bird. 

It was now deep night. Perseus looked upward, 
and saw the round, bright, silvery moon, and thought 
that he should desire nothing better than to soar up 
thither, and spend his life there. Then he looked down- 
ward again, and saw the earth, with its seas and lakes, 
and the silver courses of its rivers, and its snowy mountain 
peaks, and the breadth of its fields, and the dark cluster 


The Gorgon's Head 


i3t 

of its woods, and its cities of white marble; and, with 
the moonshine sleeping over the whole scene, it was as 
beautiful as the moon or any star could be. And, among 
other objects, he saw the island of Seriphus, where his 
dear mother was. Sometimes he and Quicksilver ap- 
proached a cloud, that, at a distance, looked as if it were 
made of fleecy silver; although, when they plunged into 
it, they found themselves chilled and moistened with 
gray mist. So swift was their flight, however, that, in 
an instant, they emerged from the cloud into the moon- 
light again. Once, a high-soaring eagle flew right against 
the invisible Perseus. The bravest sights were the 
meteors, that gleamed suddenly out, as if a bonfire had 
been kindled in the sky, and made the moonshine pale 
for as much as a hundred miles around them. 

As the two companions flew onward, Perseus fancied 
that he could hear the rustle of a garment close by his 
side; and it was on the side opposite to the one where 
he beheld Quicksilver, yet only Quicksilver was visible. 

“Whose garment is this,” inquired Perseus, “that 
keeps rustling close beside me in the breeze?” 

“Oh, it is my sister’s!” answered Quicksilver. “She 
is coming along with us, as I told you she would. We 
could do nothing without the help of my sister. You 
have no idea how wise she is. She has such eyes, too! 
Why, she can see you, at this moment, just as distinctly 
as if you were not invisible; and I’ll venture to say, she 
will be the first to discover the Gorgons.” 

By this time, in their swift voyage through the air, 
they had come within sight of the great ocean, and were 
soon flying over it. Far beneath them, the waves tossed 
themselves tumultuously in mid-sea, or rolled a white 
surf line upon the long beaches, or foamed against the 


132 Myths Every Child Should Know 

rocky cliffs, with a roar that was thunderous, in the lower 
world; although it became a gentle murmur, like the 
voice of a baby half asleep, before it reached the ears of 
Perseus. Just then a voice spoke in the air close by him. 
It seemed to be a woman’s voice, and was melodious, 
though not exactly what might be called sweet, but 
grave and mild. 

“ Perseus,” said the voice, “there are the Gorgons.” 

“Where?” exclaimed Perseus. “I cannot see them.” 

“On the shore of that island beneath you,” replied 
the voice. “A pebble, dropped from your hand, would 
strike in the midst of them.” 

“I told you she would be the first to discover them,” 
said Quicksilver to Perseus. “And there they are!” 

Straight downward, two or three thousand feet below 
him, Perseus perceived a small island, with the sea 
breaking into white foam all around its rocky shore, 
except on one side, where there was a beach of snowy 
sand. He descended toward it, and, looking earnestly 
at a cluster or heap of brightness, at the foot of a preci- 
pice of black rocks, behold, there were the terrible 
Gorgons! They lay fast asleep, soothed by the thunder 
of the sea; for it required a tumult that would have 
deafened everybody else to lull such fierce creatures 
into slumber. The moonlight glistened on their steely 
scales, and on their golden wings, which drooped idly 
over the sand. Their brazen claws, horrible to look at, 
were thrust out, and clutched the wave-beaten frag- 
ments of rock, while the sleeping Gorgons dreamed of 
tearing some poor mortal all to pieces. The snakes 
that served them instead of hair seemed likewise to be 
asleep; although, now and then, one would writhe, 
and lift its head, and thrust out its forked tongue, emitting 


a drowsy hiss, and then let itself subside among its sister 
snakes. 

The Gorgons were more like an awful, gigantic kind 
of insect — immense, golden-winged beetles, or dragon- 
flies, or things of that sort — at once ugly and beautiful — 
than like anything else; only that they were a thousand 
and a million times as big. And, with all this, there was 
something partly human about them, too. Luckily for 
Perseus, their faces were completely hidden from him 
by the posture in which they lay; for, had he but looked 
one instant at them, he would have fallen heavily out 
of the air, an image of senseless stone. 

“Now,” whispered Quicksilver, as he hovered by the 
side of Perseus — “now is your time to do the deed! 
Be quick; for, if one of the Gorgons should awake, you 
are too late!” 

“Which shall I strike at?” asked Perseus, drawing 
his sword and descending a little lower. “They all 
three look alike. All three have snaky locks. Which 
of the three is Medusa?” 

It must be understood that Medusa was the only 
one of these dragon monsters whose head Perseus could 
possibly cut off. As for the other two, let him have 
the sharpest sword that ever was forged, and he might 
have hacked away by the hour together, without doing 
them the least harm. 

“Be cautious,” said the calm voice which had before 
spoken to him. “One of the Gorgons is stirring in 
her sleep, and is just about to turn over. That is Medusa. 
Do not look at her! The sight would turn you to stone! 
Look at the reflection of her face and figure in the bright 
mirror of your shield.” 

Perseus now understood Quicksilver’s motive for so 


134 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


earnestly exhorting him to polish his shield. In its 
surface he could safely look at the reflection of the Gor- 
gon’s face. And there it was — that terrible counte- 
nance — mirrored in the brightness of the shield, with 
the moonlight falling over it, and displaying all its 
horror. The snakes, whose venomous natures could 
not altogether sleep, kept twisting themselves over the 
forehead. It was the fiercest and most horrible face 
that ever was seen or imagined, and yet with a strange, 
fearful, and savage kind of beauty in it. The eyes 
were closed, and the Gorgon was still in a deep slum- 
ber; but there was an unquiet expression disturbing 
her features, as if the monster was troubled with an 
ugly dream. She gnashed her white tusks, and dug 
into the sand with her brazen claws. 

The snakes, too, seemed to feel Medusa’s dream, and 
to be made more restless by it. They twined them- 
selves into tumultuous knots, writhed fiercely, and 
uplifted a hundred hissing heads, without opening their 
eyes. 

“Now, now!” whispered Quicksilver, who was grow- 
ing impatient. “Make a dash at the monster!” 

“But be calm,” said the grave, melodious voice at 
the young man’s side. “Look in your shield, as you 
fly downward, and take care that you do not miss your 
first stroke.” 

Perseus flew cautiously downward, still keeping his 
eyes on Medusa’s face, as reflected in his shield. The 
nearer he came, the more terrible did the snaky visage 
and metallic body of the monster grow. At last, when 
he found himself hovering over her within arm’s length, 
Perseus uplifted his sword, while, at the same instant, 
each separate snake upon the Gorgon’s head stretched 


The Gorgon's Head 


135 


threateningly upward, and Medusa unclosed her eyes. 
But she awoke too late. The sword was sharp; the 
stroke fell like a lightning flash; and the head of the 
wicked Medusa tumbled from her body! 

“Admirably done!” cried Quicksilver. “Make haste, 
and clap the head into your magic wallet.” 

To the astonishment of Perseus, the small, embroidered 
wallet, which he had hung about his neck, and which 
had hitherto been no bigger than a purse, grew all at 
once large enough to contain Medusa’s head. As quick 
as thought, he snatched it up, with the snakes still writh- 
ing upon it, and thrust it in. 

“Your task is done,” said the calm voice. “Now 
fly; for the other Gorgons will do their utmost to take 
vengeance for Medusa’s death.” 

It was, indeed, necessary to take flight; for Perseus 
had not done the deed so quietly but that the clash of 
his sword, and the hissing of the snakes, and the thump 
of Medusa’s head as it tumbled upon the sea-beaten 
sand, awoke the other two monsters. There they sat, 
for an instant, sleepily rubbing their eyes with their 
brazen fingers, while all the snakes on their heads reared 
themselves on end with surprise, and with venomous 
malice against they knew not what. But when the 
Gorgons saw the scaly carcass of Medusa, headless, 
and her golden wings all ruffled, and half spread out 
on the sand, it was really awful to hear what yells and 
screeches they set up. And then the snakes! They 
sent forth a hundredfold hiss, with one consent, and 
Medusa’s snakes answered them out of the magic wallet. 

No sooner were the Gorgons broad awake than they 
hurtled upward into the air, brandishing their brass 
talons, gnashing their horrible tusks, and flapping their 


1 36 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


huge wings so wildly, that some of the golden feathers 
were shaken out, and floated down upon the shore. And 
there, perhaps, those very feathers lie scattered till 
this day. Up rose the Gorgons, as I tell you, staring 
horribly about, in hopes of turning somebody to stone. 
Had Perseus looked them in the face, or had he fallen 
into their clutches, his poor mother would never have 
kissed her boy again! But he took good care to turn 
his eyes another way; and, as he wore the helmet of 
invisibility, the Gorgons knew not in what direction 
to follow him; nor did he fail to make the best use of 
the winged slippers, by soaring upward a perpendicular 
mile or so. At that height, when the screams of those 
abominable creatures sounded faintly beneath him, he 
made a straight course for the island of Seriphus, in 
order to carry Medusa’s head to King Polydectes. 

I have no time to tell you of several marvellous things 
that befell Perseus on his way homeward; such as his 
killing a hideous sea monster, just as it was on the point 
of devouring a beautiful maiden; nor how he changed 
an enormous giant into a mountain of stone, merely by 
showing him the head of the Gorgon. If you doubt 
this latter story, you may make a voyage to Africa, some 
day or other, and see the very mountain, which is still 
known by the ancient giant’s name. 

Finally, our brave Perseus arrived at the island, 
where he expected to see his dear mother. But, dur- 
ing his absence, the wicked king had treated Danae 
so very ill that she was compelled to make her escape, 
and had taken refuge in a temple, where some good 
old priests were extremely kind to her. These praise- 
worthy priests, and the kind-hearted fisherman, who 
had first shown hospitality to Danae and little Perseus 


The Gorgon's Head 


137 


when he found them afloat in the chest, seem to have 
been the only persons on the island who cared about 
doing right. All the rest of the people, as well as King 
Polydectes himself, were remarkably ill behaved, and 
deserved no better destiny than that which was now to 
happen. 

Not finding his mother at home, Perseus went straight 
to the palace, and was immediately ushered into the 
presence of the king. Polydectes was by no means 
rejoiced to see him; for he had felt almost certain, in 
his own evil mind, that the Gorgons would have torn 
the poor young man to pieces, and have eaten him up, 
out of the way. However, seeing him safely returned, 
he put the best face he could upon the matter and asked 
Perseus how he had succeeded. 

“Have you performed your promise ?” inquired he. 
“Have you brought me the head of Medusa with the 
snaky locks? If not, young man, it will cost you dear; 
for I must have a bridal present for the beautiful Prin- 
cess Hippodamia, and there is nothing else that she would 
admire so much. ,, 

“Yes, please Your Majesty,” answered Perseus, in a 
quiet way, as if it were no very wonderful deed for such 
a young man as he to perform. “I have brought you 
the Gorgon’s head, snaky locks and all!” 

“Indeed! Pray let me see it,” quoth King Poly- 
dectes. “It must be a very curious spectacle, if all 
that travellers tell about it be true!” 

“Your Majesty is in the right,” replied Perseus. “It 
is really an object that will be pretty certain to fix the 
regards of all who look at it. And, if Your Majesty 
think fit, I would suggest that a holiday be proclaimed, 
and that all Your Majesty’s subjects be summoned to 


138 Myths Every Child Should Know 

behold this wonderful curiosity. Few of them, I imagine, 
have seen a Gorgon’s head before, and perhaps never 
may again!” 

The king well knew that his subjects were an idle 
set of reprobates, and very fond of sightseeing, as idle 
persons usually are. So he took the young man’s advice, 
and sent out heralds and messengers, in all directions, 
to blow the trumpet at the street corners, and in the 
market places, and wherever two roads met, and summon 
everybody to court. Thither, accordingly, came a 
great multitude of good-for-nothing vagabonds, all of 
whom, out of pure love of mischief, would have been 
glad if Perseus had met with some ill-hap in his encounter 
with the Gorgons. If there were any better people in 
the island (as I really hope there may have been, although 
the story tells nothing about any such), they stayed 
quietly at home, minding their business, and taking care 
of their little children. Most of the inhabitants, at all 
events, ran as fast as they could to the palace, and 
shoved, and pushed, and elbowed one another in 
their eagerness to get near a balcony, on which Perseus 
showed himself, holding the embroidered wallet in 
his hand. 

On a platform, within full view of the balcony, sat 
the mighty King Polydectes, amid his evil counsellors, 
and with his flattering courtiers in a semi-circle round 
about him. Monarch, counsellors, courtiers, and sub- 
jects, all gazed eagerly toward Perseus. 

“ Show us the head! Show us the head!” shouted the 
people; and there was a fierceness in their cry as if they 
would tear Perseus to pieces, unless he should satisfy 
them with what he had to show. “Show us the head of 
Medusa with the snaky locks!” 


The Gorgon's Head 139 

A feeling of sorrow and pity came over the youthful 
Perseus. 

“O King Polydectes,” cried he, “and ye many people, 
I am very loath to show you the Gorgon’s head!” 

“Ah, the villain and coward!” yelled the people, more 
fiercely than before. “He. is making game of us! He 
has no Gorgon’s head! Show us the head if you have it, 
or we will take your own head for a football!” 

The evil counsellors whispered bad advice in the king’s 
ear; the courtiers murmured, with one consent, that 
Perseus had shown disrespect to their royal lord and 
master; and the great King Polydectes himself waved his 
hand, and ordered him, with the stern, deep voice of 
authority, on his peril, to produce the head. 

“Show me the Gorgon’s head, or I will cut off your 
own!” 

And Perseus sighed. 

“This instant,” repeated Polydectes, “or you die!” 

“Behold it then!” cried Perseus, in a voice like the 
blast of a trumpet. 

And, suddenly holding up the head, not an eyelid had 
time to wink before the wicked King Polydectes, his evil 
counsellors, and all his fierce subjects were no longer 
anything but the mere images of a monarch and his peo- 
ple. They were all fixed, forever, in the look and attitude 
of that moment! At the first glimpse of the terrible head 
of Medusa, they whitened into marble! And Perseus 
thrust the head back into his wallet, and went to tell his 
dear mother that she need no longer be afraid of the 
wicked King Polydectes. 


CHAPTER VI 


THE DRAGON’S TEETH 

Cadmus, Phoenix, and Cilix, the three sons of King 
Agenor, and their little sister Europa (who was a very 
beautiful child) were at play together, near the seashore, 
in their father’s kingdom of Phoenicia. They had ram- 
bled to some distance from the palace where their parents 
dwelt, and were now in a verdant meadow, on one side of 
which lay the sea, all sparkling and dimpling in the sun- 
shine, and murmuring gently against the beach. The 
three boys were very happy, gathering flowers, and twining 
them into garlands, with which they adorned the little 
Europa. Seated on the grass, the child was almost hid- 
den under an abundance of buds and blossoms, whence 
her rosy face peeped merrily out, and, as Cadmus said, 
was the prettiest of all the flowers. 

Just then, there came a splendid butterfly, fluttering 
along the meadow; and Cadmus, Phoenix, and Cilix set 
off in pursuit of it, crying out that it was a flower with 
wings. Europa, who was a little wearied with playing 
all day long, did not chase the butterfly with her brothers, 
but sat still where they had left her, and closed her eyes. 
For a while, she listened to the pleasant murmur of the 
sea, which was like a voice saying “Hush!” and bidding 
her go to sleep. But the pretty child, if she slept at all, 
could not have slept more than a moment, when she 
heard something trample on the grass, not far from her, 
140 


The Dragon's Teeth 141 

and peeping out from the heap of flowers, beheld a snow- 
white bull. 

And whence could this bull have come? Europa and 
her brothers had been a long time playing in the meadow, 
and had seen no cattle, nor other living thing, either there 
or on the nighbouring hills. 

“Brother Cadmus!” cried Europa, starting up out of 
the midst of the roses and lilies. “Phoenix! Cilix! Where 
are you all? Help! Help! Come and drive away this 
bull!” 

But her brothers were too far off to hear; especially as 
the fright took away Europa’s voice, and hindered her 
from calling very loudly. So there she stood, with her 
pretty mouth wide open, as pale as the white lilies that 
were twisted among the other flowers in her garlands. 

Nevertheless, it was the suddenness with which she 
had perceived the bull, rather than anything frightful in 
his appearance, that caused Europa so much alarm. On 
looking at him more attentively, she began to see that he 
was a beautiful animal, and even fancied a particularly 
amiable expression in his face. As for his breath — the 
breath of cattle, you know, is always sweet — it was as 
fragrant as if he had been grazing on no other food than 
rosebuds, or, at least, the most delicate of clover blossoms. 
Never before did a bull have such bright and tender eyes, 
and such smooth horns of ivory, as this one. And the bull 
ran little races, and capered sportively around the child; 
so that she quite forgot how big and strong he was, and, 
from the gentleness and playfulness of his actions, soon 
came to consider him as innocent a creature as a pet lamb. 

Thus, frightened as she at first was, you might by and 
by have seen Europa stroking the bull’s forehead with 
her small white hand, and taking the garlands off her own 


142 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


head to hang them on his neck and ivory horns. Then she 
pulled up some blades of grass, and he ate them out of her 
hand, not as if he were hungry, but because he wanted to 
be friends with the child, and took pleasure in eating what 
she had touched. Well, my stars! was there ever such a 
gentle, sweet, pretty, and amiable creature as this bull, 
and ever such a nice playmate for a little girl ? 

When the animal saw (for the bull had so much intelli- 
gence that it is really wonderful to think of), when he saw 
that Europa was no longer afraid of him, he grew over- 
joyed, and could hardly contain himself for delight. He 
frisked about the meadow, now here, now there, making 
sprightly leaps, with as little effort as a bird expends in 
hopping from twig to twig. Indeed, his motion was as 
light as if he were flying through the air, and his hoofs 
seemed hardly to leave their print in the grassy soil over 
which he trod. With his spotless hue, he resembled a 
snowdrift, wafted along by the wind. Once he galloped 
so far away that Europa feared lest she might never see 
him again; so, setting up her childish voice, she called 
him back. 

“Come back, pretty creature !” she cried. “Here is a 
nice clover blossom.” 

And then it was delightful to witness the gratitude of 
this amiable bull, and how he was so full of joy and thank- 
fulness that he capered higher than ever. He came run- 
ning, and bowed his head before Europa, as if he knew 
her to be a king’s daughter, or else recognised the impor- 
tant truth that a little girl is everybody’s queen. And 
not only did the bull bend his neck, he absolutely knelt 
down at her feet, and made such intelligent nods, and 
other inviting gestures, that Europa understood what he 
meant just as well as if he had put it in so many words. 


The Dragon's Teeth 


143 


“Come, dear child,” was what he wanted to say, “let 
me give you a ride on my back.” 

At the first thought of such a thing, Europa drew back. 
But then she considered in her wise little head that there 
could be no possible harm in taking just one gallop on 
the back of this docile and friendly animal, who would 
certainly set her down the very instant she desired it. 
And how it would surprise her brothers to see her riding 
across the green meadow! And what merry times they 
might have, either taking turns for a gallop, or clambering 
on the gentle creature, all four children together, and 
careering round the field with shouts of laughter that 
would be heard as far off as King Agenor’s palace! 

“I think I will do it,” said the child to herself. 

And, indeed, why not ? She cast a glance around, and 
caught a glimpse of Cadmus, Phoenix, and Cilix, who 
were still in pursuit of the butterfly, almost at the other 
end of the meadow. It would be the quickest way of 
rejoining them, to get upon the white bull’s back. She 
came a step nearer to him, therefore; and — sociable 
creature that he was — he showed so much joy at this mark 
of her confidence, that the child could not find it in her 
heart to hesitate any longer. Making one bound (for 
this little princess was as active as a squirrel), there sat 
Europa on the beautiful bull, holding an ivory horn in 
each hand, lest she should fall off. 

“Softly, pretty bull, softly!” she said, rather frightened 
at what she had done. “Do not gallop too fast.” 

Having got the child on his back, the animal gave a 
leap into the air, and came down so like a feather that 
Europa did not know when his hoofs touched the ground. 
He then began a race to that part of the flowery plain 
where her three brothers were, and where they had just 


144 Myths Every Child Should Know 

caught their splendid butterfly. Europa screamed with 
delight; and Phoenix, Cilix, and Cadmus stood gaping 
at the spectacle of their sister mounted on a white bull, 
not knowing whether to be frightened or to wish the same 
good luck for themselves. The gentle and innocent 
creature (for who could possibly doubt that he was so?) 
pranced round among the children as sportively as a 
kitten. Europa all the while looked down upon her 
brothers, nodding and laughing, but yet with a sort of 
stateliness in her rosy little face. As the bull wheeled 
about to take another gallop across the meadow, the 
child waved her hand, and said, “ Good-by, ” playfully 
pretending that she was now bound on a distant journey, 
and might not see her brothers again for nobody could 
tell how long. 

“ Good-by,” shouted Cadmus, Phoenix, and Cilix, all 
• in one breath. 

But, together with her enjoyment of the sport, there 
was still a little remnant of fear in the child’s heart; so 
that her last look at the three boys was a troubled one, 
and made them feel as if their dear sister were really leav- 
ing them forever. And what do you think the snowy bull 
did next ? Why, he set off, as swift as the wind, straight 
down to the seashore, scampered across the sand, took 
an airy leap, and plunged right in among the foaming 
billows. The white spray rose in a shower over him and 
little Europa, and fell spattering down upon the water. 

Then what a scream of terror did the poor child send 
forth! The three brothers screamed manfully, likewise, 
and ran to the shore as fast as their legs would carry 
them, with Cadmus at their head. But it was too late. 
When they reached the margin of the sand, the treacher- 
ous animal was already far away in the wide blue sea, 


The Dragon's Teeth 


M5 


with only his snowy head and tail emerging, and poor 
little Europa between them, stretching out one hand 
toward her dear brothers, while she grasped the bull’s 
ivory horn with the other. And there stood Cadmus, 
Phoenix, and Cilix, gazing at this sad spectacle, through 
their tears, until they could no longer distinguish the 
bull’s snowy head from the white-capped billows that 
seemed to boil up out of the sea’s depths around him. 
Nothing more was ever seen of the white bull — nothing 
more of the beautiful child. 

This was a mournful story, as you may well think, for 
the three boys to carry home to their parents. King 
Agenor, their father, was the ruler of the whole country; 
but he loved his little daughter Europa better than his 
kingdom, or than all his other children, or than anything 
else in the world. Therefore, when Cadmus and his two 
brothers came crying home, and told him how that a 
white bull had carried off their sister, and swam with her 
over the sea, the king was quite beside himself with grief 
and rage. Although it was now twilight, and fast growing 
dark, he bade them set out instantly in search of her. 

“ Never shall you see my face again,” he cried, “ unless 
you bring me back my little Europa, to gladden me with 
her smiles and her pretty ways. Begone, and enter my 
presence no more, till you come leading her by the hand.” 

As King Agenor said this, his eyes flashed fire (for he 
was a very passionate king), and he looked so terribly 
angry that the poor boys did not even venture to ask for 
their suppers, but slunk away out of the palace, and only 
paused on the steps a moment to consult whither they 
should go first. While they were standing there, all in 
dismay, their mother, Queen Telephassa (who happened 
not to be by when they told the story to the king), came 


146 Myths Every Child Should Know 

hurrying after them, and said that she, too, would go in 
quest of her daughter. 

“Oh no, mother!” cried the boys. “The night is 
dark, and there is no knowing what troubles and perils 
we may meet with.” 

“Alas! my dear children,” answered poor Queen 
Telephassa, weeping bitterly, “that is only another reason 
why I should go with you. If I should lose you, too, as 
well as my little Europa, what would become of me?” 

“And let me go likewise!” said their playfellow Thasus, 
who came running to join them. 

Thasus was the son of a seafaring person in the neigh- 
bourhood; he had been brought up with the young prin- 
cess, and was their intimate friend, and loved Europa 
very much; so they consented that he should accompany 
them. The whole party, therefore, set forth together; 
Cadmus, Phoenix, Cilix and Thasus clustered round 
Queen Telephassa, grasping her skirts, and begging her 
to lean upon their shoulders whenever she felt weary. In 
this manner they went down the palace steps, and began 
a journey which turned out to be a great deal longer than 
they dreamed of. The last that they saw of King Agenor, 
he came to the door, with a servant holding a torch beside, 
him, and called after them into the gathering darkness: 

“Remember! Never ascend these steps again without 
the child!” 

“Never!” sobbed Queen Telephassa; and the three 
brothers and Thasus answered, “Never! Never! Never! 
Never!” 

And they kept their word. Year after year King 
Agenor sat in the solitude of his beautiful palace, listening 
in vain for their returning footsteps, hoping to hear the 
familiar voice of the queen, and the cheerful talk of his 


The Dragon's Teeth 


147 


sons and their playfellow Thasus, entering the door 
together, and the sweet, childish accents of little Europa 
in the midst of them. But so long a time went by, that, 
at last, if they had really come, the king would not have 
known that this was the voice of Telephassa, and these 
the ybunger voices that used to make such joyful echoes 
when the children were playing about the palace. We 
must now leave King Agenor to sit on his throne, and 
must go along with Queen Telephassa and her four youth- 
ful companions. 

They went on and on, and travelled a long way, and 
passed over mountains and rivers, and sailed over seas. 
Here, and there, and everywhere, they made continual 
inquiry if any person could tell them what had become of 
Europa. The rustic people, of whom they asked this 
question, paused a little while from their labours in the 
field, and looked very much surprised. They thought it 
strange to behold a woman in the garb of a queen (for 
Telephassa, in her haste, had forgotten to take off her 
crown and her royal robes), roaming about the country, 
with four lads around her, on such an errand as this 
seemed to be. But nobody could give them any tidings 
of Europa; nobody had seen a little girl dressed like a 
princess, and mounted on a snow-white bull, which 
galloped as swiftly as the wind. 

I cannot tell you how long Queen Telephassa, and 
Cadmus, Phoenix, and Cilix, her three sons, and Thasus, 
their playfellow, went wandering along the highways and 
bypaths, or through the pathless wildernesses of the 
earth, in this manner. But certain it is, that, before they 
reached any place of rest, their splendid garments were 
quite worn out. They all looked very much travel 
stained, and would have had the dust of many countries 


148 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


on their shoes, if the streams, through which they waded, 
had not washed it all away. When they had been gone 
a year, Telephassa threw away her crown, because it 
chafed her forehead. 

“It has given me many a headache,” said the poor 
queen, “and it cannot cure my heartache.” 

As fast as their princely robes got torn and tattered, 
they exchanged them for such mean attire as ordinary 
people wore. By and by they came to have a wild and 
homeless aspect; so that you would much sooner have 
taken them for a gypsy family than a queen and three 
princes, and a young nobleman, who had once a palace 
for their home, and a train of servants to do their bidding. 
The four boys grew up to be tall young men, with sun- 
burnt faces. Each of them girded on a sword, to defend 
themselves against the perils of the way. When the hus- 
bandmen, at whose farmhouses they sought hospitality, 
needed their assistance in the harvest field, they gave it 
willingly; and Queen Telephassa (who had done no work 
in her palace, save to braid silk threads with golden ones) 
came behind them to bind the sheaves. If payment was 
offered, they shook their heads, and only asked for tidings 
of Europa. 

“There are bulls enough in my pasture,” the old 
farmers would reply; “but I never heard of one like this 
you tell me of. A snow-white bull with a little princess 
on his back! Ho! ho! I ask your pardon, good folks; 
but there never was such a sight seen hereabouts.” 

At last, when his upper lip began to have the down on 
it, Phoenix grew weary of rambling hither and thither to 
no purpose. So, one day, when they happened to be 
passing through a pleasant and solitary tract of country, 
he sat himself down on a heap of moss. 


The Dragon’s Teeth 


149 


“I can go no farther,” said Phoenix. “It is a mere 
foolish waste of life, to spend it, as we do, in always wan- 
dering up and down, and never coming to any home at 
nightfall. Our sister is lost, and never will be found. 
She probably perished in the sea; or, to whatever shore 
the white bull may have carried her, it is now so many 
years ago, that there would be neither love nor acquaint- 
ance between us should we meet again. My father has 
forbidden us to return to his palace; so I shall build me a 
hut of branches, and dwell here.” 

“Well, son Phoenix,” said Telephassa, sorrowfully, 
“you have grown to be a man, and must do as you judge 
best. But, for my part, I will still go in quest of my poor 
child.” 

“And we three will go along with you!” cried Cadmus 
and Cilix, and their faithful friend Thasus. 

But, before setting out, they all helped Phoenix to build 
a habitation. When completed, it was a sweet rural 
bower, roofed overhead with an arch of living boughs. 
Inside there were two pleasant rooms, one of which had a 
soft heap of moss for a bed, while the other was furnished 
with a rustic seat or two, curiously fashioned out of the 
crooked roots of trees. So comfortable and homelike 
did it seem, that Telephassa and her three companions 
could not help sighing, to think that they must still roam 
about the world, instead of spending the remainder of 
their lives in some such cheerful abode as they had here 
built for Phcenix. But, when they bade him farewell, 
Phoenix shed tears, and probably regretted that he was 
no longer to keep them company. 

However, he had fixed upon an admirable place to 
dwell in. And by and by there came other people, who 
chanced to have no homes; and, seeing how pleasant a 


150 Myths Every Child Should Know 

spot it was, they built themselves huts in the neighbour- 
hood of Phoenix’s habitation. Thus, before many years 
went by, a city had grown up there, in the centre of which 
was seen a stately palace of marble, wherein dwelt Phoenix, 
clothed in a purple robe, and wearing a golden crown 
upon his head. For the inhabitants of the new city, 
finding that he had royal blood in his veins, had chosen 
him to be their king. The very first decree of state which 
King Phoenix issued was, that if a maiden happened to 
arrive in the kingdom, mounted on a snow-white bull, 
and calling herself Europa, his subjects should treat her 
with the greatest kindness and respect, and immediately 
bring her to the palace. You may see, by this, that 
Phoenix’s conscience never quite ceased to trouble him, 
for giving up the quest of his dear sister, and sitting him- 
self down to be comfortable, while his mother and her 
companions went onward. 

But often and often, at the close of a weary day’s jour- 
ney, did Telephassa and Cadmus, Cilix and Thasus, 
remember the pleasant spot in which they had left 
Phoenix. It was a sorrowful prospect for these wan- 
derers, that on the morrow they must again set forth, and 
that, after many nightfalls, they would perhaps be no 
nearer the close of their toilsome pilgrimage than now. 
These thoughts made them all melancholy at times, but 
appeared to torment Cilix more than the rest of the party. 
At length, one morning, when they were taking their 
staffs in hand to set out, he thus addressed them: 

“My dear mother, and you good brother Cadmus, and 
my friend Thasus, methinks we are like people in a dream. 
There is no substance in the life which we are leading. 
It is such a dreary length of time since the white bull car- 
ried off my sister Europa, that I have quite forgotten how 


The Dragon's Teeth 


I S I 

she looked, and the tones of her voice, and, indeed, almost 
doubt whether such a little girl ever lived in the world. 
And whether she once lived or no, I am convinced that 
she no longer survives, and that therefore it is the merest 
folly to waste our own lives and happiness in seeking her. 
Were we to find her, she would now be a woman grown, 
and would look upon us all as strangers. So, to tell you 
the truth, I have resolved to take up my abode here; and 
I entreat you, mother > brother, and friend, to follow my 
example.” 

“Not I, for one,” said Telephassa; although the poor 
queen, firmly as she spoke, was so travel worn that she 
could hardly put her foot to the ground — “not I, for one! 
In the depths of my heart, little Europa is still the rosy 
child who ran to gather flowers so many years ago. She 
has not grown to womanhood, nor forgotten me. At 
noon, at night, journeying onward, sitting down to rest, 
her childish voice is always in my ears, calling, ‘Mother! 
mother! ’ Stop here who may, there is no repose for me.” 

“Nor for me,” said Cadmus, “while my dear mother 
pleases to go onward.” 

And the faithful Thasus, too, was resolved to bear them 
company. They remained with Cilix a few days, how- 
ever, and helped him to build a rustic bower, resembling 
the one which they had formerly built for Phoenix. 

When they were bidding him farewell, Cilix burst into 
tears, and told his mother that it seemed just as melan- 
choly a dream to stay there, in solitude, as to go onward. 
If she really believed that they would ever find Europa, 
he was willing to continue the search with them, even 
now. But Telephassa bade him remain there, and be 
happy, if his own heart would let him. So the pilgrims 
took their leave of him, and departed, and were hardly 


I ej2 Myths Every Child Should Know 

out of sight before some other wandering people came 
along that way, and saw Cilix’s habitation, and were 
greatly delighted with the appearance of the place. There 
being abundance of unoccupied ground in the neighbour- 
hood, these strangers built huts for themselves, and were 
soon joined by a multitude of new settlers, w r ho quickly 
formed a city. In the middle of it was seen a magnificent 
palace of coloured marble, on the balcony of which, every 
noontide, appeared Cilix, in a long purple robe, and with 
a jewelled crown upon his head; for the inhabitants, when 
they found out that he was a king’s son, had considered 
him the fittest of all men to be a king himself. 

One of the first acts of King Cilix’s government was to 
send out an expedition, consisting of a grave ambassador 
and an escort of bold and hardy young men, with orders 
to visit the principal kingdoms of the earth, and inquire 
whether a young maiden had passed through those 
regions, galloping swiftly on a white bull. It is, therefore, 
plain to my mind, that Cilix secretly blamed himself for 
giving up the search for Europa, as long as he was able to 
put one foot before the other. 

As for Telephassa, and Cadmus, and the good Thasus, 
it grieves me to think of them, still keeping up that weary 
pilgrimage. The two young men did their best for the 
poor queen, helping her over the rough places, often car- 
rying her across rivulets in their faithful arms, and seeking 
to shelter her at nightfall, even when they themselves lay 
on the ground. Sad, sad it was to hear them asking of 
every passerby if he had seen Europa, so long after the 
white bull had carried her away. But, though the gray 
years thrust themselves between, and made the child’s 
figure dim in their remembrance, neither of these true- 
hearted three ever dreamed of giving up the search. 


The Dragon's Teeth 


*53 

One morning, however, poor Thasus found that he 
had sprained his ankle, and could not possibly go a step 
farther. 

“After a few days, to be sure,” said he, mournfully, “I 
might make shift to hobble along with a stick. But that 
would only delay you, and perhaps hinder you from 
finding dear little Europa, after all your pains and trouble. 
Do you go forward, therefore, my beloved companions, 
and leave me to follow as I may.” 

“Thou hast been a true friend, dear Thasus,” said 
Queen Telephassa, kissing his forehead. “Being neither 
my son, nor the brother of our lost Europa, thou hast 
shown thyself truer to me and her than Phoenix and Cilix 
did, whom we have left behind us. Without thy loving 
help, and that of my son Cadmus, my limbs could not 
have borne me half so far as this. Now, take thy rest, 
and be at peace. For — and it is the first time I have 
owned it to myself — I begin to question whether we shall 
ever find my beloved daughter in this world.” 

Saying this, the poor queen shed tears, because it was 
a grievous trial to the mother’s heart to confess that her 
hopes were growing faint. From that day forward, Cad- 
mus noticed that she never travelled with the same 
alacrity of spirit that had heretofore supported her. Her 
weight was heavier upon his arm. 

Before setting out, Cadmus helped Thasus build a 
bower; while Telephassa, being too infirm to give any 
great assistance, advised them how to fit it up and furnish 
it, so that it might be as comfortable as a hut of branches 
could. Thasus, however, did not spend all his days in 
this green bower. For it happened to him, as to Phoenix 
and Cilix, that other homeless people visited the spot and 
liked it, and built themselves habitations in the neighbour- 


154 Myths Every Child Should Know 

hood. So here, in the course of a few years, was another 
thriving city with a red freestone palace in the centre of 
it, where Thasus set upon a throne, doing justice to the 
people, with a purple robe over his shoulders, a sceptre 
in his hand, and a crown upon his head. The inhabitants 
had made him king, not for the sake of any royal blood 
(for none was in his veins), but because Thasus was an 
upright, true-hearted, and courageous man, and therefore 
fit to rule. 

But, when the affairs of his kingdom were all settled, 
King Thasus laid aside his purple robe, and crown, and 
sceptre, and bade his worthiest subject distribute justice 
to the people in his stead. Then, grasping the pilgrinTs 
staff that had supported him so long, he set forth again, 
hoping still to discover some hoof mark of the snow-white 
bull, some trace of the vanished child. He returned, after 
a lengthened absence, and sat down wearily upon his 
throne. To his latest hour, nevertheless, King Thasus 
showed his true-hearted remembrance of Europa, by 
ordering that a fire should always be kept burning in his 
palace, and a bath steaming hot, and food ready to be 
served up, and a bed with snow-white sheets, in case the 
maiden should arrive, and require immediate refresh- 
ment. And though Europa never came, the good Thasus 
had the blessings of many a poor traveller, who profited 
by the food and lodging which were meant for the little 
playmate of the king’s boyhood. 

Telephassa and Cadmus were now pursuing their 
weary way, with no companion but each other. The 
queen leaned heavily upon her son’s arm, and could walk 
only a few miles a day. But for all her weakness and 
weariness, she would not be persuaded to give up the 
search. It was enough to bring tears into the eyes of 


The Dragon's Teeth 


i5S 


bearded men to hear the melancholy tone with which she 
inquired of every stranger whether he could tell her any 
news of the lost child. 

“Have you seen a little girl — no, no, I mean a young 
maiden of full growth — passing by this way, mounted on 
a snow-white bull, which gallops as swiftly as the wind?” 

“We have seen no such wondrous sight,” the people 
would reply; and very often, taking Cadmus aside, they 
whispered to him, “Is this stately and sad-looking woman 
your mother? Surely she is not in her right mind; and 
you ought to take her home, and make her comfortable, 
and do your best to get this dream out of her fancy.” 

“It is no dream,” said Cadmus. “Everything else is 
a dream, save that.” 

But, one day, Telephassa seemed feebler than usual, 
and leaned almost her whole weight on the arm of Cad- 
mus, and walked more slowly than ever before. At last 
they reached a solitary spot, where she told her son that 
she must needs lie down, and take a good, long rest. 

“A good, long rest! ” she repeated, looking Cadmus ten- 
derly in the face — “a good, long rest, thou dearest one!” 

“As long as you please, dear mother,” answered Cad- 
mus. 

Telephassa bade him sit down on the turf beside her, 
and then she took his hand. 

“My son,” said she, fixing her dim eyes most lovingly 
upon him, “this rest that I speak of will be very long 
indeed! You must not wait till it is finished. Dear Cad- 
mus, you do not comprehend me. You must make a 
grave here, and lay your mother’s weary frame into it. 
My pilgrimage is over.” 

Cadmus burst into tears, and, for a long time, refused 
to believe that his dear mother was now to be taken from 


156 Myths Every Child Should Know 

him. But Telephassa reasoned with him, and kissed 
him, and at length made him discern that it was better for 
her spirit to pass away out of the toil, the weariness, the 
grief, and disappointment which had burdened her on 
earth, ever since the child was lost. He therefore re- 
pressed his sorrow, and listened to her last words. 

“Dearest Cadmus,” said she, “thou hast been the 
truest son that ever mother had, and faithful to the very 
last. Who else would have borne with my infirmities as 
thou hast! It is owing to thy care, thou tenderest child, 
that my grave was not dug long years ago, in some valley, 
or on some hillside, that lies far, far behind us. It is 
enough. Thou shalt wander no more on this hopeless 
search. But when thou hast laid thy mother in the earth, 
then go, my son, to Delphi, and inquire of the oracle what 
thou shalt do next.” 

“O mother, mother,” cried Cadmus, “couldst thou 
but have seen my sister before this hour!” 

“It matters little now,” answered Telephassa, and 
there was a smile upon her face. “I go now to the better 
world, and, sooner or later, shall find my daughter there.” 

I will not sadden you, my little hearers, with telling 
how Telephassa died and was buried, but will only say, 
that her dying smile grew brighter, instead of vanishing 
from her dead face; so that Cadmus felt convinced that, 
at her very first step into the better world, she had caught 
Europa in her arms. He planted some flowers on his 
mother’s grave, and left them to grow there, and make 
the place beautiful, when he should be far away. 

After performing this last sorrowful duty, he set forth 
alone, and took the road toward the famous oracle of 
Delphi, as Telephassa had advised him. On his way 
thither, he still inquired of most people whom he met 


The Dragon's Teeth 


157 


whether they had seen Europa; for, to say the truth, 
Cadmus had grown so accustomed to ask the question, 
that it came to his lips as readily as a remark about the 
weather. He received various answers. Some told him 
one thing, and some another. Among the rest, a mariner 
affirmed, that, many years before, in a distant country, 
he had heard a rumour about a white bull, which came 
swimming across the sea with a child on his back, dressed 
up in flowers that were blighted by the sea water. He 
did not know what had become of the child or the bull; 
and Cadmus suspected, indeed, by a queer twinkle in the 
mariner’s eyes, that he was putting a joke upon him, and 
had never really heard anything about the matter. 

Poor Cadmus found it more wearisome to travel alone 
than to bear all his dear mother’s weight while she had 
kept him company. His heart, you will understand, was 
now so heavy that it seemed impossible, sometimes, to 
carry it any farther. But his limbs were strong and active 
and well accustomed to exercise. He walked swiftly 
along, thinking of King Agenor and Queen Telephassa, 
and his brothers, and the friendly Thasus, all of whom he 
had left behind him, at one point of his pilgrimage or 
another, and never expected to see them any more. Full 
of these remembrances, he came within sight of a lofty 
mountain, which the people thereabouts told him was 
called Parnassus. On the slope of Mount Parnassus was 
the famous Delphi, whither Cadmus was going. 

This Delphi was supposed to be the very midmost spot 
of the whole world. The place of the oracle was a certain 
cavity in the mountain side, over which, when Cadmus 
came thither, he found a rude bower of branches. It 
reminded him of those which he had helped to build for 
Phoenix and Cilix, and afterward for Thasus. In later 


158 Myths Every Child Should Know 

times, when multitudes of people came from great dis- 
tances to put questions to the oracle, a spacious temple of 
marble was erected over the spot. But in the days of 
Cadmus, as I have told you, there was only this rustic 
bower, with its abundance of green foliage, and a tuft of 
shrubbery, that ran wild over the mysterious hole in the 
hillside. 

When Cadmus had thrust a passage through the 
tangled boughs, and made his way into the bower, he 
did not at first discern the half-hidden cavity. But soon 
he felt a cold stream of air rushing out of it, with so much 
force that it shook the ringlets on his cheek. Pulling 
away the shrubbery which clustered over the hole, he bent 
forward, and spoke in a distinct but reverential tone, as if 
addressing some unseen personage inside of the mountain. 

“Sacred oracle of Delphi,” said he, “whither shall I go 
next in quest of my dear sister Europa?” 

There was at first a deep silence, and then a rushing 
sound, or a noise like a long sigh, proceeding out of the 
interior of the earth. This cavity, you must know, was 
looked upon as a sort of fountain of truth, which some- 
times gushed out in audible words; although, for the 
most part, these words were such a riddle that they might 
just as well have stayed at the bottom of the hole. But 
Cadmus was more fortunate than many others who went 
to Delphi in search of truth. By and by, the rushing 
noise began to sound like articulate language. It re- 
peated, over and over again, the following sentence, which, 
after all, was so like the vague whistle of a blast of air, 
that Cadmus really did not quite know whether it meant 
anything or not: 

“Seek her no more! Seek her no more! Seek her no 
more!” 


The Dragon's Teeth 


*59 


“What, then, shall I do?” asked Cadmus. 

For, ever since he was a child, you know, it had been 
the great object of his life to find his sister. From the very 
hour that he left following the butterfly in the meadow, near 
his father’s palace, he had done his best to follow Europa, 
over land and sea. And now, if he must give up the 
search, he seemed to have no more business in the world. 

But again the sighing gust of air grew into something 
like a hoarse voice. 

“Follow the cow!” it said. “Follow the cow! Follow 
the cow!” 

And when these words had been repeated until Cadmus 
was tired of hearing them (especially as he could not 
imagine what cow it was, or why he was to follow her), 
the gusty hole gave vent to another sentence. 

“Where the stray cow lies down, there is your home.” 

These words were pronounced but a single time, and 
died away into a whisper before Cadmus was fully satis- 
fied that he had caught the meaning. He put other ques- 
tions, but received no answer; only the gust of wind sighed 
continually out of the cavity, and blew the withered leaves 
rustling along the ground before it. 

“Did there really come any words out of the hole?” 
thought Cadmus; “or have I been dreaming all this 
while?” 

He turned away from the oracle, and thought himself 
no wiser than when he came thither. Caring little what 
might happen to him, he took the first path that offered 
itself, and went along at a sluggish pace; for, having no 
object in view, nor any reason to go one way more than 
another, it would certainly have been foolish to make 
haste. Whenever he met anybody, the old question was 
at his tongue’s end: 


160 Myths Every Child Should Know 

“Have you seen a beautiful maiden, dressed like a 
king’s daughter, and mounted on a snow-white bull, that 
gallops as swiftly as the wind?” 

But, remembering what the oracle had said, he only 
half uttered the words, and then mumbled the rest indis- 
tinctly; and from his confusion, people must have im- 
agined that this handsome young man had lost his wits. 

I know not how far Cadmus had gone, nor could he 
himself have told you, when, at no great distance before 
him, he beheld a brindled cow. She was lying down by 
the wayside, and quietly chewing her cud; nor did she 
take any notice of the young man until he had approached 
pretty nigh. Then, getting leisurely upon her feet, and 
giving her head a gentle toss, she began to move along at 
a moderate pace, often pausing just long enough to crop 
a mouthful of grass. Cadmus loitered behind, whistling 
idly to himself, and scarcely noticing the cow; until the 
thought occurred to him, whether this could possibly be 
the animal which, according to the oracle’s response, was 
to serve him for a guide. But he smiled at himself for 
fancying such a thing. He could not seriously think that 
this was the cow, because she went along so quietly, 
behaving just like any other cow. Evidently she neither 
knew nor cared so much as a wisp of hay about Cadmus, 
and was only thinking how to get her living along the 
wayside, where the herbage was green and fresh. Per- 
haps she was going home to be milked. 

“Cow, cow, cow!” cried Cadmus. “Hey, Brindle, 
hey! Stop, my good cow.” 

He wanted to come up with the cow, so as to examine 
her, and see if she would appear to know him, or whether 
there were any peculiarities to distinguish her from a 
thousand other cows, whose only business is to fill the 


The Dragon's Teeth 


161 


milk pail, and sometimes kick it over. But still the 
brindled cow trudged on, whisking her tail to keep the 
flies away, and taking as little notice of Cadmus as she 
well could. If he walked slowly, so did the cow, and seized 
the opportunity to graze. If he quickened his pace, the 
cow went just so much the faster; and once, when Cadmus 
tried to catch her by running, she threw out her heels, 
stuck her tail straight on end, and set off at a gallop, look- 
ing as queerly as cows generally do, while putting them- 
selves to their speed. 

When Cadmus saw that it was impossible to come up 
with her, he walked on moderately, as before. The cow, 
too, went leisurely on, without looking behind. Wherever 
the grass was greenest, there she nibbled a mouthful or 
two. Where a brook glistened brightly across the path, 
there the cow drank, and breathed a comfortable sigh, and 
drank again, and trudged onward at the pace that best 
suited herself and Cadmus. 

“I do believe,” thought Cadmus, “that this may be the 
cow that was foretold me. If it be the one, I suppose she 
will lie down somewhere hereabouts.” 

Whether it were the oracular cow or some other one, it 
did riot seem reasonable that she should travel a great way 
farther. So, whenever they reached a particularly pleas- 
ant spot on a breezy hillside, or in a sheltered vale, or 
flowery meadow, on the shore of a calm lake, or along the 
bank of a clear stream, Cadmus looked eagerly around to 
see if the situation would suit him for a home. But still, 
whether he liked the place or no, the brindled cow never 
offered to lie down. On she went at the quiet pace of a 
cow going homeward to the barnyard ; and, every moment 
Cadmus expected to see a milkmaid approaching with a 
pail, or a herdsman running to head the stray animal, and 


1 62 Myths Every Child Should Know 

turn her back toward the pasture. But no milkmaid 
came; no herdsman drove her back; and Cadmus fol- 
lowed the stray brindle till he was almost ready to drop 
down with fatigue. 

“O brindled cow,’’ cried he, in a tone of despair, “do 
you never mean to stop?” 

He had now grown too intent on following her to think 
of lagging behind, however long the way, and whatever 
might be his fatigue. Indeed, it seemed as if there were 
something about the animal that bewitched people. 
Several persons who happened to see the brindled cow, 
and Cadmus following behind, began to trudge after her, 
precisely as he did. Cadmus was glad of somebody to 
converse with, and therefore talked very freely to these 
good people. He told them all his adventures, and how 
he had left King Agenor in his palace, and Phoenix at one 
place, and Cilix at another, and Thasus at a third, and his 
dear mother, Queen Telephassa, under a flowery sod; so 
that now he was quite alone, both friendless and home- 
less. He mentioned, likewise, that the oracle had bidden 
him be guided by a cow, and inquired of the strangers 
whether they supposed that this brindled animal could 
be the one. 

“Why, ’tis a very wonderful affair,” answered one of 
his new companions. “I am pretty well acquainted with 
the ways of cattle, and I never knew a cow, of her own 
accord, to go so far without stopping. If my legs will let 
me, I’ll never leave following the beast till she lies down.” 

“Nor I!” said a second. 

“Nor I!” cried a third. “If she goes a hundred miles 
farther, I’m determined to see the end of it.” 

The secret of it was, you must know, that the cow was 
an enchanted cow, and that, without their being conscious 


The Dragon's Teeth 


163 

of it, she threw some of her enchantment over everybody 
that took so much as half a dozen steps behind her. They 
could not possibly help following her, though, all the 
time, they fancied themselves doing it of their own accord. 
The cow was by no means very nice in choosing her path; 
so that sometimes they had to scramble over rocks, or 
wade through mud and mire, and were all in a terribly 
bedraggled condition, and tired to death, and very hun- 
gry, into the bargain. What a weary business it was! 

But still they kept trudging stoutly forward, and talking 
as they went. The strangers grew very fond of Cadmus, 
and resolved never to leave him, but to help him build a 
city wherever the cow might lie down. In the centre of 
it there should be a noble palace, in which Cadmus might 
dwell, and be their king, with a throne, a crown and scep- 
tre, a purple robe, and everything else that a king ought 
to have; for in him there was the royal blood, and the 
royal heart, and the head that knew how to rule. 

While they were talking of these schemes, and beguiling 
the tediousness of the way with laying out the plan of the 
new city, one of the company happened to look at the cow. 

“Joy! joy!” cried he, clapping his hands. “Brindle 
is going to lie down.” 

They all looked; and, sure enough, the cow had stopped 
and was staring leisurely about her, as other cows do 
when on the point of lying down. And slowly, slowly 
did she recline herself on the soft grass, first bending her 
fore legs, and then crouching her hind ones. When Cad- 
mus and his companions came up with her, there was the 
brindled cow taking her ease, chewing her cud, and look- 
ing them quietly in the face; as if this was just the spot 
she had been seeking for, and as if it were all a matter of 


course. 


164 Myths Every Child Should Know 

“This, then,” said Cadmus, gazing around him, “this 
is to be my home.” 

It was a fertile and lovely plain, with great trees flinging 
their sun-speckled shadows over it, and hills fencing it in 
from the rough weather. At no great distance, they 
beheld a river gleaming in the sunshine. A home feeling 
stole into the heart of poor Cadmus. He was very glad 
to know that here he might awake in the morning, without 
the necessity of putting on his dusty sandals to travel 
farther and farther. The days and the years would pass 
over him, and find him still in this pleasant spot. If he 
could have had his brothers with him, and his friend 
Thasus, and could have seen his dear mother under a 
roof of his own, he might here have been happy, after 
all their disappointments. Some day or other, too, his 
sister Europa might have come quietly to the door of his 
home, and smiled round upon the familiar faces. But, 
indeed, since there was no hope of regaining the friends 
of his boyhood, or ever seeing his dear sister again, Cad- 
mus resolved to make himself happy with these new com- 
panions, who had grown so fond of him while following 
the cow. 

“Yes, my friends,” said he to them, “this is to be our 
home. Here we will build our habitations. The brin- 
dled cow, which has led us hither, will supply us with 
milk. We will cultivate the neighbouring soil, and lead 
an innocent and happy life.” 

His companions joyfully assented to this plan; and, in 
the first place, being very hungry and thirsty, they looked 
about them for the means of providing a comfortable 
meal. Not far off, they saw a tuft of trees, which ap- 
peared as if there might be a spring of water beneath 
them. They went thither to fetch some, leaving Cadmus 


The Dragon's Teeth 


165 


stretched on the ground along with the brindled cow; for, 
now that he had found a place of rest, it seemed as if all 
the weariness of his pilgrimage, ever since he left King 
Agenor’s palace, had fallen upon him at once. But his 
new friends had not long been gone, when he was sud- 
denly startled by cries, shouts, and screams, and the noise 
of a terrible struggle, and in the midst of it all, a most 
awful hissing, which went right through his ears like a 
rough saw. 

Running toward the tuft of trees, he beheld the head 
and fiery eyes of an immense serpent or dragon, with the 
widest jaws that ever a dragon had, and a vast many rows 
of horribly sharp teeth. Before Cadmus could reach the 
spot, this pitiless reptile had killed his poor companions, 
and was busily devouring them, making but a mouthful 
of each man. 

It appears that the fountain of water was enchanted, 
and that the dragon had been set to guard it, so that no 
mortal might ever quench his thirst there. As the neigh- 
bouring inhabitants carefully avoided the spot, it was now 
a long time (not less than a hundred years, or there- 
abouts) since the monster had broken his fast; and, as 
was natural enough, his appetite had grown to be enor- 
mous, and was not half satisfied by the poor people whom 
he had just eaten up. When he caught sight of Cadmus, 
therefore, he set up another abominable hiss, and flung 
back his immense jaws, until his mouth looked like a 
great red cavern, at the farther end of which were seen 
the legs of his last victim, whom he had hardly had time 
to swallow. 

But Cadmus was so enraged at the destruction of his 
friends, that he cared neither for the size of the dragon’s 
jaws nor for his hundreds of sharp teeth. Drawing his 


1 66 Myths Every Child Should Know 

sword, he rushed at the monster, and flung himself right 
into his cavernous mouth. This bold method of attack- 
ing him took the dragon by surprise; for, in fact, Cadmus 
had leaped so far down into his throat, that the rows of 
terrible teeth could not close upon him, nor do him the 
least harm in the world. Thus, though the struggle was 
a tremendous one, and though the dragon shattered the 
tuft of trees into small splinters by the lashing of his tail, 
yet, as Cadmus was all the while slashing and stabbing 
at his very vitals, it was not long before the scaly wretch 
bethought himself of slipping away. He had not gone 
his length, however, when the brave Cadmus gave him a 
sword thrust that finished the battle; and, creeping out 
of the gateway of the creature’s jaws, there he beheld him 
still wriggling his vast bulk, although there was no longer 
life enough in him to harm a little child. 

But do not you suppose that it made Cadmus sorrow- 
ful to think of the melancholy fate which had befallen 
those poor, friendly people, who had followed the cow 
along with him ? It seemed as if he were doomed to lose 
everybody whom he loved, or to see them perish in one 
way or another. And here he was, after all his toils and 
troubles, in a solitary place, with not a single human 
being to help him build a hut. 

“What shall I do?” cried he aloud. “It were better 
for me to have been devoured by the dragon, as my poor 
companions were.” 

“Cadmus,” said a voice — but whether it came from 
above or below him, or whether it spoke within his own 
breast, the young man could not tell — “Cadmus, pluck 
out the dragon’s teeth, and plant them in the earth.” 

This was a strange thing to do; nor was it very easy, 
I should imagine, to dig out all those deep-rooted fangs 


The Dragon's Teeth 


167 


from the dead dragon’s jaws. But Cadmus toiled and 
tugged, and after pounding the monstrous head almost to 
pieces with a great stone, he at last collected as many teeth 
as might have filled a bushel or two. The next thing was 
to plant them. This, likewise, was a tedious piece of 
work, especially as Cadmus was already exhausted with 
killing the dragon and knocking his head to pieces, and 
had nothing to dig the earth with, that I know of, unless 
it were his sword blade. Finally, however, a sufficiently 
large tract of ground was turned up, and sown with this 
new kind of seed; although half of the dragon’s teeth 
still remained to be planted some other day. 

Cadmus, quite out of breath, stood leaning upon his 
sword, and wondering what was to happen next. He had 
waited but a few moments, when he began to see a sight, 
which was as great a marvel as the most marvellous thing 
I ever told you about. 

The sun was shining slantwise over the field, and 
showed all the moist, dark soil just like any other newly 
planted piece of ground. All at once, Cadmus fancied 
he saw something glisten very brightly, first at one spot, 
then at another, and then at a hundred and a thousand 
spots together. Soon he perceived them to be the steel 
heads of spears, sprouting up everywhere like so many 
stalks of grain, and continually growing taller and taller. 
Next appeared a vast number of bright sword blades, 
thrusting themselves up in the same way. A moment 
afterward, the whole surface of the ground was broken 
up by a multitude of polished brass helmets, coming up 
like a crop of enormous beans. So rapidly did they grow, 
that Cadmus now discerned the fierce countenance of a 
man beneath every one. In short, before he had time 
to think what a wonderful affair it was, he beheld an 


1 68 Myths Every Child Should Know 

abundant harvest of what looked like human beings, 
armed with helmets and breastplates, shields, swords and 
spears; and before they were well out of the earth, they 
brandished their weapons, and clashed them one against 
another, seeming to think, little while as they had yet 
lived, that they had wasted too much of life without a 
battle. Every tooth of the dragon had produced one of 
these sons of deadly mischief. 

Up sprouted, also, a great many trumpeters; and with 
the first breath that they drew, they put their brazen 
trumpets to their lips, and sounded a tremendous and 
ear-shattering blast; so that the whole space, just now so 
quiet and solitary, reverberated with the clash and clang 
of arms, the bray of warlike music, and the shouts of 
angry men. So enraged did they all look, that Cadmus 
fully expected them to put the whole world to the sword. 
How fortunate would it be for a great conqueror, if he 
could get a bushel of the dragon’s teeth to sow! 

“ Cadmus,” said the same voice which he had before 
heard, “throw a stone into the midst of the armed men.” 

So Cadmus seized a large stone, and, flinging it into 
the middle of the earth army, saw it strike the breast- 
plate of a gigantic and fierce-looking warrior. Imme- 
diately on feeling the blow, he seemed to take it for 
granted that somebody had struck him; and, uplifting 
his weapon, he smote his next neighbour a blow that cleft 
his helmet asunder, and stretched him on the ground. 
In an instant, those nearest the fallen warrior began to 
strike at one another with their swords and stab with 
their spears. The confusion spread wider and wider. 
Each man smote down his brother, and was himself 
smitten down before he had time to exult in his victory. 
The trumpeters, all the while, blew their blasts shriller 


The Dragon's Teeth 


169 


and shriller; each soldier shouted a battle cry and often 
fell with it on his lips. It was the strangest spectacle of 
causeless wrath, and of mischief for no good end, that had 
ever been witnessed; but, after all, it was neither more 
foolish nor more wicked than a thousand battles that have 
since been fought, in which men have slain their brothers 
with just as little reason as these children of the dragon’s 
teeth. It ought to be considered, too, that the dragon 
people were made for nothing else; whereas other mor- 
tals were born to love and help one another. 

Well, this memorable battle continued to rage until the 
ground was strewn with helmeted heads that had been 
cut off. Of all the thousands that began the fight, there 
were only five left standing. These now rushed from 
different parts of the field, and, meeting in the middle of 
it, clashed their swords, and struck at each other’s hearts 
as fiercely as ever. 

“ Cadmus,” said the voice again, “bid those five 
warriors to sheathe their swords. They will help you to 
build the city.” 

Without hesitating an instant, Cadmus stepped for- 
ward, with the aspect of a king and a leader, and extend- 
ing his drawn sword amongst them, spoke to the warriors 
in a stern and commanding voice. 

“Sheathe your weapons!” said he. 

And forthwith, feeling themselves bound to obey him, 
the five remaining sons of the dragon’s teeth made him a 
military salute with their swords, returned them to the 
scabbards, and stood before Cadmus in a rank, eyeing 
him as soldiers eye their captain, while awaiting the word 
of command. 

These five men had probably sprung from the biggest 
of the dragon’s teeth, and were the boldest and strongest 


170 Myths Every Child Should Know 

of the whole army. They were almost giants, indeed, 
and had good need to be so, else they never could have 
lived through so terrible a fight. They still had a very 
furious look, and, if Cadmus happened to glance aside, 
would glare at one another, with fire flashing out of their 
eyes. It was strange, too, to observe how the earth, out 
of which they had so lately grown, was incrusted, here 
and there, on their bright breastplates, and even begrimed 
their faces, just as you may have seen it clinging to beets 
and carrots when pulled out of their native soil. Cadmus 
hardly knew whether to consider them as men, or some 
odd kind of vegetable; although, on the whole, he con- 
cluded that there was human nature in them, because 
they were so fond of trumpets and weapons, and so ready 
to shed blood. 

They looked him earnestly in the face, waiting for his 
next order, and evidently desiring no other employment 
than to follow him from one battlefield to another, all 
over the wide world. But Cadmus was wiser than these 
earth-born creatures, with the dragon’s fierceness in them, 
and knew better how to use their strength and hardihood. 

“Come!” said he. “You are sturdy fellows. Make 
yourselves useful! Quarry some stones with those great 
swords of yours, and help me to build a city.” 

The five soldiers grumbled a little, and muttered that 
it was their business to overthrow cities, not to build them 
up. But Cadmus looked at them with a stern eye, and 
spoke to them in a tone of authority, so that they knew 
him for their master, and never again thought of disobey- 
ing his commands. They set to work in good earnest, and 
toiled so diligently, that, in a very short time, a city began 
to make its appearance. At first, to be sure, the work- 
men showed a quarrelsome disposition. Like savage 


The Dragon’s Teeth 


171 

beasts, they would doubtless have done one another a 
mischief, if Cadmus had not kept watch over them and 
quelled the fierce old serpent that lurked in their hearts, 
when he saw it gleaming out of their wild eyes. But, in 
course of time, they got accustomed to honest labour, and 
had sense enough to feel that there was more true enjoy- 
ment in living at peace, and doing good to one’s neigh- 
bour, than in striking at him with a two-edged sword. It 
may not be too much to hope that the rest of mankind will 
by and by grow as wise and peaceable as these five earth- 
begrimed warriors, who sprang from the dragon’s teeth. 

And now the city was built, and there was a home in it 
for each of the workmen. But the palace of Cadmus was 
not yet erected, because they had left it till the last, mean- 
ing to introduce all the new improvements of architecture, 
and make it very commodious, as well as stately and 
beautiful. After finishing the rest of their labours, they 
all went to bed betimes, in order to rise in the gray of the 
morning, and get at least the foundation of the edifice laid 
before nightfall. But, when Cadmus arose, and took 
his way toward the site where the palace was to be built, 
followed by his five sturdy workmen marching all in a 
row, what do you think he saw? 

What should it be but the most magnificent palace that 
had ever been seen in the world ? It was built of marble 
and other beautiful kinds of stone, and rose high into the 
air, with a splendid dome and a portico along the front, 
and carved pillars, and everything else that befitted the 
habitation of a mighty king. It had grown up out of the 
earth in almost as short a time as it had taken the armed 
host to spring from the dragon’s teeth; and what made 
the matter more strange, no seed of this stately edifice 
had ever been planted. 


172 Myths Every Child Should Know 

When the five workmen beheld the dome, with the 
morning sunshine making it look golden and glorious, 
they gave a great shout. 

“Long live King Cadmus,” they cried, “in his beautiful 
palace.” 

And the new king, with his five faithful followers at 
his heels, shouldering their pickaxes and marching in a 
rank (for they still had a soldier-like sort of behaviour, as 
their nature was), ascended the palace steps. Halting at 
the entrance, they gazed through a long vista of lofty 
pillars that were ranged from end to end of a great hall. 
At the farther extremity of this hall, approaching slowly 
toward him, Cadmus beheld a female figure, wonderfully 
beautiful, and adorned with a royal robe, and a crown of 
diamonds over her golden ringlets, and the richest neck- 
lace that ever a queen wore. His heart thrilled with 
delight. He fancied it his long-lost sister Europa, now 
grown to womanhood, coming to make him happy, and 
to repay him, with her sweet sisterly affection, for all 
those weary wanderings in quest of her since he left King 
Agenor’s palace — for the tears that he had shed, on parting 
with Phoenix, and Cilix, and Thasus — for the heart- 
breakings that had made the whole world seem dismal to 
him over his dear mother’s grave. 

But, as Cadmus advanced to meet the beautiful 
stranger, he saw that her features were unknown to him, 
although, in the little time that it required to tread along 
the hall, he had already felt a sympathy betwixt himself 
and her. 

“No, Cadmus,” said the same voice that had spoken 
to him in the field of the armed men, “this is not that dear 
sister Europa whom you have sought so faithfully all 
over the wide world. This is Harmonia, a daughter of 


The Dragon's Teeth 


i73 


the sky, who is given you instead of sister, and brothers, 
and friend, and mother. You will find all those dear 
ones in her alone.” 

So King Cadmus dwelt in the palace, with his new 
friend Harmonia, and found a great deal of comfort in his 
magnificent abode, but would doubtless have found as 
much, if not more, in the humblest cottage by the wayside. 
Before many years went by, there was a group of rosy little 
children (but how they came thither has always been a 
mystery to me) sporting in the great hall, and on the 
marble steps of the palace, and running joyfully to meet 
King Cadmus when affairs of state left him at leisure to 
play with them. They called him father, and Queen 
Harmonia mother. The five old soldiers of the dragon’s 
teeth grew very fond of these small urchins, and were 
never weary of showing them how to shoulder sticks, 
flourish wooden swords, and march in military order, 
blowing a penny trumpet, or beating an abominable 
rub-a-dub upon a little drum. 

But King Cadmus, lest there should be too much of 
the dragon’s tooth in his children’s disposition, used to 
find time from his kingly duties to teach them their 
A B C — which he invented for their benefit, and for 
which many little people, I am afraid, are not half so 
grateful to him as they ought to be. 


CHAPTER VII 


THE MIRACULOUS PITCHER 

One evening, in times long ago, old Philemon and 
his old wife Baucis sat at their cottage door, enjoying 
the calm and beautiful sunset. They had already eaten 
their frugal supper, and intended now to spend a quiet 
hour or two before bedtime. So they talked together 
about their garden, and their cow, and their bees, and 
their grapevine, which clambered over the cottage wall, 
and on which the grapes were beginning to turn purple. 
But the rude shouts of children, and the fierce barking 
of dogs, in the village near at hand, grew louder and 
louder, until, at last, it was hardly possible for Baucis 
and Philemon to hear each other speak. 

“Ah, wife,” cried Philemon, “I fear some poor trav- 
eller is seeking hospitality among our neighbours yonder, 
and, instead of giving him food and lodging, they have 
set their dogs at him, as their custom is!” 

“Well-a-day!” answered old Baucis, “I do wish our 
neighbours felt a little more kindness for their fellow 
creatures. And only think of bringing up their children 
in this naughty way, and patting them on the head when 
they fling stones at strangers!” 

“Those children will never come to any good,” said 
Philemon, shaking his white head. “To tell you the 
truth, wife, I should not wonder if some terrible thing 
were to happen to all the people in the village, unless 
i74 


The Miraculous Pitcher 


175 


they mend their manners. But, as for you and me, so 
long as Providence affords us a crust of bread, let us be 
ready to give half to any poor, homeless stranger that 
may come along and need it.” 

“That’s right, husband I” said Baucis. “So we will!” 

These old folks, you must know, were quite poor, 
and had to work pretty hard for a living. Old Philemon 
toiled diligently in his garden, while Baucis was always 
busy with her distaff, or making a little butter and 
cheese with their cow’s milk, or doing one thing and 
another about the cottage. Their food was seldom 
anything but bread, milk, and vegetables, with some- 
times a portion of honey from their beehive, and now 
and then a bunch of grapes that had ripened against 
the cottage wall. But they were two of the kindest 
old people in the world, and would cheerfully have gone 
without their dinners, any day, rather than refuse a 
slice of their brown loaf, a cup of new milk, and a spoon- 
ful of honey, to the weary traveller who might pause 
before their door. They felt as if such guests had a 
sort of holiness, and that they ought, therefore, to treat 
them better and more bountifully than their own selves. 

Their cottage stood on a rising ground, at some short 
distance from a village, which lay in a hollow valley 
that was about half a mile in breadth. This valley, in 
past ages, when the world was new, had probably been 
the bed of a lake. There, fishes had glided to and fro 
in the depths, and water weeds had grown along the 
margin, and trees and hills had seen their reflected 
images in the broad and peaceful mirror. But, as the 
waters subsided, men had cultivated the soil, and built 
houses on it, so that it was now a fertile spot, and bore 
no traces of the ancient lake, except a very small brook, 


176 Myths Every Child Should Know 

which meandered through the midst of the village, and 
supplied the inhabitants with water. The valley had 
been dry land so long that oaks had sprung up, and 
grown great and high, and perished with old age, and 
been succeeded by others, as tall and stately as the first. 
Never was there a prettier or more fruitful valley. The 
very sight of the plenty around them should have made 
the inhabitants kind and gentle, and ready to show their 
gratitude to Providence by doing good to their fellow 
creatures. 

But, we are sorry to say, the people of this lovely 
village were not worthy to dwell in a spot on which 
Heaven had smiled so beneficently. They were a very 
selfish and hard-hearted people, and had no pity for 
the poor, nor sympathy with the homeless. They would 
only have laughed, had anybody told them that human 
beings owe a debt of love to one another, because there 
is no other method of paying the debt of love and care 
which all of us owe to Providence. You will hardly 
believe what I am going to tell you. These naughty 
people taught their children to be no better than them- 
selves, and used to clap their hands, by way of encour- 
agement, when they saw the little boys and girls run after 
some poor stranger, shouting at his heels, and pelting 
him with stones. They kept large and fierce dogs, and 
whenever a traveller ventured to show himself in the 
village street, this pack of disagreeable curs scampered 
to meet him, barking, snarling, and showing their teeth. 
Then they would seize him by his leg, or by his clothes, 
just as it happened; and if he were ragged when he came, 
he was generally a pitiable object before he had time to 
run away. This was a very terrible thing to poor trav- 
ellers, as you may suppose, especially when they chanced 


The Miraculous Pitcher 


177 


to be sick, or feeble, or lame, or old. Such persons (if 
they once knew how badly these unkind people, and 
their unkind children and curs, were in the habit of 
behaving) would go miles and miles out of their way, 
rather than try to pass through the village again. 

What made the matter seem worse, if possible, was 
that when rich persons came in their chariots, or rid- 
ing on beautiful horses, with their servants in rich liv- 
eries attending on them, nobody could be more civil 
and obsequious than the inhabitants of the village. 
They would take off their hats, and make the humblest 
bows you ever saw. If the children were rude, they 
were pretty certain to get their ears boxed; and as for 
the dogs, if a single cur in the pack presumed to yelp, 
his master instantly beat him with a club, and tied him 
up without any supper. This would have been all very 
well, only it proved that the villagers cared much about 
the money that a stranger had in his pocket, and nothing 
whatever for the human soul, which lives equally in the 
beggar and the prince. 

So now you can understand why old Philemon spoke 
so sorrowfully, when he heard the shouts of the children 
and the barking of the dogs, at the farther extremity of 
the village street. There was a confused din, which 
lasted a good while, and seemed to pass quite through 
the breadth of the valley. 

“I never heard the dogs so loud!” observed the good 
old man. 

“Nor the children so rude!” answered his good old 
wife. 

They sat shaking their heads, one to another, while 
the noise came nearer and nearer; until, at the foot of 
the little eminence on which their cottage stood, they 


178 Myths Every Child Should Know 

saw two travellers approaching on foot. Close behind 
them came the fierce dogs, snarling at their very heels. 
A little farther off, ran a crowd of children, who sent 
up shrill cries, and flung stones at the two strangers, 
with all their might. Once or twice, the younger of 
the two men (he was a slender and very active figure) 
turned about and drove back the dogs with a staff which 
he carried in his hand. His companion, who was a 
very tall person, walked calmly along, as if disdaining 
to notice either the naughty children, or the pack of curs, 
whose manners the children seemed to imitate. 

Both of the travellers were very humbly clad, and 
looked as if they might not have money enough in their 
pockets to pay for a night’s lodging. And this, I am 
afraid, was the reason why the villagers had allowed 
their children and dogs to treat them so rudely. 

“Come, wife,” said Philemon to Baucis, “let us go 
and meet these poor people. No doubt, they feel almost 
too heavy hearted to climb the hill.” 

“Go you and meet them,” answered Baucis, “while 
I make haste within doors, and see whether we can get 
them anything for supper. A comfortable bowl of 
bread and milk would do wonders toward raising their 
spirits.” 

Accordingly, she hastened into the cottage. Phile- 
mon, on his part, went forward, and extended his hand 
with so hospitable an aspect that there was no need of 
saying what nevertheless he did say, in the heartiest tone 
imaginable: 

“Welcome, strangers! welcome!” 

“Thank you!” replied the younger of the two, in a 
lively kind of way, notwithstanding his weariness and 
trouble. “This is quite another greeting than we have 


The Miraculous Pitcher 179 

met with yonder in the village. Pray, why do you live 
in such a bad neighbourhood ?” 

“Ah!” observed old Philemon, with a quiet and benign 
smile, “Providence put me here, I hope, among other 
reasons, in order that I may make you what amends I 
can for the inhospitality of my neighbours.” 

“Well said, old father!” cried the traveller, laugh- 
ing; “and, if the truth must be told, my companion 
and myself need some amends. Those children (the 
little rascals!) have bespattered us finely with their 
mud balls; and one of the curs has torn my cloak, which 
was ragged enough already. But I took him across the 
muzzle with my staff; and I think you may have heard 
him yelp, even thus far off.” 

Philemon was glad to see him in such good spirits; 
nor, indeed, would you have fancied, by the traveller’s 
look and manner, that he was weary with a long day’s 
journey, besides being disheartened by rough treatment 
at the end of it. He was dressed in rather an odd way, 
with a sort of cap on his head, the brim of which stuck 
out over both ears. Though it was a summer evening, 
he wore a cloak, which he kept wrapt closely about 
him, perhaps because his undergarments were shabby. 
Philemon perceived, too, that he had on a singular 
pair of shoes; but, as it was now growing dusk, 
and as the old man’s eyesight was none the sharpest, 
he could not precisely tell in what the strangeness 
consisted. One thing, certainly, seemed queer. The 
traveller was so wonderfully light and active that it 
appeared as if his feet sometimes rose from the ground 
of their own accord, or could only be kept down by 
an effort. 

“I used to be light footed, in my youth,” said Phile- 


180 Myths Every Child Should Know 

mon to the traveller. “But I always found my feet 
grow heavier toward nightfall.” 

“There is nothing like a good staff to help one along,” 
answered the stranger; “and I happen to have an excel- 
lent one, as you see.” 

This staff, in fact, was the oddest-looking staff that 
Philemon had ever beheld. It was made of olive wood, 
and had something like a little pair of wings near the 
top. Two snakes, carved in the wood, were represented 
as twining themselves about the staff, and were so very 
skilfully executed that old Philemon (whose eyes, you 
know, were getting rather dim) almost thought them 
alive, and that he could see them wriggling and twisting. 

“A curious piece of work, sure enough!” said he. “A 
staff with wings! It would be an excellent kind of stick 
for a little boy to ride astride of!” 

By this time, Philemon and his two guests had reached 
the cottage door. 

“Friends,” said the old man, “sit down and rest your- 
selves here on this bench. My good wife Baucis has gone 
to see what you can have for supper. We are poor 
folks; but you shall be welcome to whatever we have in 
the cupboard.” 

The younger stranger threw himself carelessly on 
the bench, letting his staff fall as he did so. And here 
happened something rather marvellous, though trifling 
enough, too. The staff seemed to get up from the ground 
of its own accord, and, spreading its little pair of wings, 
it half hopped, half flew, and leaned itself against the 
wall of the cottage. There it stood quite still, except 
that the snakes continued to wriggle. But, in my private 
opinion, old Philemon’s eyesight had been playing him 
tricks again. 


The Miraculous Pitcher 181 

Before he could ask any questions, the elder stranger 
drew his attention from the wonderful staff, by speaking 
to him. 

“Was there not,” asked the stranger, in a remarkably 
deep tone of voice, “a lake, in very ancient times, cover- 
ing the spot where now stands yonder village?” 

“Not in my day, friend,” answered Philemon; “and 
yet I am an old man, as you see. There were always 
the fields and meadows, just as they are now, and the 
old trees, and the little stream murmuring through the 
midst of the valley. My father, nor his father before 
him, ever saw it otherwise, so far as I know; and doubt- 
less it will still be the same, when old Philemon shall be 
gone and forgotten!” 

“That is more than can be safely foretold,” observed 
the stranger; and there was something very stern in his 
deep voice. He shook his head, too, so that his dark 
and heavy curls were shaken with the movement. “Since 
the inhabitants of yonder village have forgotten the 
affections and sympathies of their nature, it were better 
that the lake should be rippling over their dwellings 
again!” 

The traveller looked so stern that Philemon was 
really almost frightened; the more so, that, at his frown, 
the twilight seemed suddenly to grow darker, and that, 
when he shook his head, there was a roll as of thunder 
in the air. 

But, in a moment afterward, the stranger’s face be- 
came so kindly and mild, that the old man quite forgot 
his terror. Nevertheless, he could not help feeling that 
this elder traveller must be no ordinary personage, 
although he happened now to be attired so humbly and 
to be journeying on foot. Not that Philemon fancied 


1 82 Myths Every Child Should Know 

him a prince in disguise, or any character of that sort; 
but rather some exceedingly wise man, who went about 
the world in this poor garb, despising wealth and all 
worldly objects, and seeking everywhere to add a mite 
to his wisdom. This idea appeared the more probable, 
because, when Philemon raised his eyes to the stranger’s 
face, he seemed to see more thought there, in one look, 
than he could have studied out in a lifetime. 

While Baucis was getting the supper, the travellers 
both began to talk very sociably with Philemon. The 
younger, indeed, was extremely loquacious, and made 
such shrewd and witty remarks, that the good old man 
continually burst out a-laughing, and pronounced him 
the merriest fellow whom he had seen for many a day. 

“Pray, my young friend,” said he, as they grew 
familiar together, “what may I call your name?” 

“Why, I am very nimble, as you see,” answered the 
traveller. “So, if you call me Quicksilver, the name 
will fit tolerably well.” 

“Quicksilver? Quicksilver?” repeated Philemon, look- 
ing in the traveller’s face, to see if he were making fun 
of him. “It is a very odd name! And your companion 
there? Has he as strange a one?” 

“You must ask the thunder to tell it you!” replied 
Quicksilver, putting on a mysterious look. “No other 
voice is loud enough.” 

This remark, whether it were serious or in jest, might 
have caused Philemon to conceive a very great awe of 
the elder stranger, if, on venturing to gaze at him, he had 
not beheld so much beneficence in his visage. But, 
undoubtedly, here was the grandest figure that ever sat 
so humbly beside a cottage door. When the stranger 
conversed, it was with gravity, and in such a way that 


The Miraculous Pitcher 


183 

Philemon felt irresistibly moved to tell him everything 
which he had most at heart. This is always the feeling 
that people have, when they meet with anyone wise 
enough to comprehend all their good and evil, and to 
despise not a tittle of it. 

But Philemon, simple and kind-hearted old man that 
he was, had not many secrets to disclose. He talked, 
however, quite garrulously, about the events of his past 
life, in the whole course of which he had never been a 
score of miles from this very spot. His wife Baucis and 
himself had dwelt in the cottage from their youth upward, 
earning their bread by honest labour, always poor, but 
still contented. He told what excellent butter and cheese 
Baucis made, and how nice were the vegetables which 
he raised in his garden. He said, too, that, because 
they loved one another so very much, it was the wish 
of both that death might not separate them, but that 
they should die, as they had lived, together. 

As the stranger listened, a smile beamed over his coun- 
tenance, and made its expression as sweet as it was grand. 

“You are a good old man,” said he to Philemon, “and 
you have a good old wife to be your helpmeet. It is fit 
that your wish be granted.” 

And it seemed to Philemon, just then, as if the sunset 
clouds threw up a bright flash from the west, and kindled 
a sudden light in the sky. 

Baucis had now got supper ready, and, coming to 
the door, began to make apologies for the poor fare which 
she was forced to set before her guests. 

“Had we known you were coming,” said she, “my 
good man and myself would have gone without a morsel, 
rather than you should lack a better supper. But I 
took the most part of to-day’s milk to make cheese; 


184 Myths Every Child Should Know 

and our last loaf is already half eaten. Ah me! I never 
feel the sorrow of being poor, save when a poor traveller 
knocks at our door.” 

“All will be very well; do not trouble yourself, my 
good dame,’ , replied the elder stranger, kindly. “An 
honest, hearty welcome to a guest works miracles with 
the fare, and is capable of turning the coarsest food to 
nectar and ambrosia.” 

“A welcome you shall have,” cried Baucis, “and like- 
wise a little honey that we happen to have left, and a 
bunch of purple grapes besides.” 

“Why, Mother Baucis, it is a feast!” exclaimed 
Quicksilver, laughing, “an absolute feast! and you 
shall see how bravely I will play my part at it! I think 
I never felt hungrier in my life.” 

“Mercy on us!” whispered Baucis to her husband. 
“If the young man has such a terrible appetite, I am 
afraid there will not be half enough supper!” 

They all went into the cottage. 

And, now, my little auditors, shall I tell you something 
that will make you open your eyes very wide? It is 
really one of the oddest circumstances in the whole 
story. Quicksilver’s staff, you recollect, had set itself 
up against the wall of the cottage. Well; when its 
master entered the door, leaving this wonderful staff 
behind, what should it do but immediately spread its 
little wings, and go hopping and fluttering up the door- 
steps! Tap, tap, went the staff, on the kitchen floor; 
nor did it rest until it had stood itself on end, with the 
greatest gravity and decorum, beside Quicksilver’s chair. 
Old Philemon, however, as well as his wife, was so 
taken up in attending to their guests, that no notice was 
given to what the staff had been about. 


The Miraculous Pitcher 


185 

As Baucis had said, there was but a scanty supper 
for two hungry travellers. In the middle of the table 
was the remnant of a brown loaf, with a piece of cheese 
on one side of it, and a dish of honeycomb on the other. 
There was a pretty good bunch of grapes for each of the 
guests. A moderately sized earthen pitcher, nearly 
full of milk, stood at a corner of the board; and when 
Baucis had filled two bowls, and set them before the 
strangers, only a little milk remained in the bottom of the 
pitcher. Alas! it is a very sad business, when a bountiful 
heart finds itself pinched and squeezed among narrow 
circumstances. Poor Baucis kept wishing that she 
might starve for a week to come, if it were possible, by 
so doing, to provide these hungry folks a more plentiful 
supper. 

And, since the supper was so exceedingly small, she 
could not help wishing that their appetites had not been 
quite so large. Why, at their very first sitting down, 
the travellers both drank off all the milk in their two 
bowls, at a draught. 

“ A little more milk, kind Mother Baucis, if you please,” 
said Quicksilver. “The day has been hot, and I am 
very much athirst.” 

“Now, my dear people,” answered Baucis, in great 
confusion, “I am so sorry and ashamed! But the 
truth is, there is hardly a drop more milk in the pitcher. 
O husband! husband! why didn’t we go without our 
supper?” 

“Why, it appears to me,” cried Quicksilver, starting 
up from the table and taking the pitcher by the handle, 
“it really appears to me that matters are not quite 
so bad as you represent them. Here is certainly more 
milk in the pitcher.” 


1 86 Myths Every Child Should Know 

So saying, and to the vast astonishment of Baucis, 
he proceeded to fill, not only his own bowl, but his 
companion’s likewise, from the pitcher, that was supposed 
to be almost empty. The good woman could scarcely 
believe her eyes. She had certainly poured out nearly 
all the milk, and had peeped in afterward, and seen the 
bottom of the pitcher, as she set it down upon the table. 

“But I am old,” thought Baucis to herself, “and 
apt to be forgetful. I suppose I must have made a 
mistake. At all events, the pitcher cannot help being 
empty now, after filling the bowls twice over.” 

“What excellent milk!” observed Quicksilver, after 
quaffing the contents of the second bowl. “Excuse me, 
my kind hostess, but I must really ask you for a little 
more.” 

Now Baucis had seen, as plainly as she could see 
anything, that Quicksilver had turned the pitcher upside 
down, and consequently had poured out every drop 
of milk, in filling the last bowl. Of course, there could 
not possibly be any left. However, in order to let him 
know precisely how the case was, she lifted the pitcher, 
and made a gesture as if pouring milk into Quicksilver’s 
bowl, but without the remotest idea that any milk would 
stream forth. What was her surprise, therefore, when 
such an abundant cascade fell bubbling into the bowl, that 
it was immediately filled to the brim, and overflowed upon 
the table! The two snakes that were twisted about 
Quicksilver’s staff (but neither Baucis nor Philemon 
happened to observe this circumstance) stretched out their 
heads, and began to lap up the spilt milk. 

And then what a delicious fragrance the milk had! 
It seemed as if Philemon’s only cow must have pastured, 
that day, on the richest herbage that could be found 


The Miraculous Pitcher 


187 


anywhere in the world. I only wish that each of you, 
my beloved little souls, could have a bowl of such nice 
milk, at supper time! 

“ And now a slice of your brown loaf, Mother Baucis,” 
said Quicksilver, “and a little of that honey!” 

Baucis cut him a slice, accordingly; and though the 
loaf, when she and her husband ate of it, had been 
rather too dry and crusty to be palatable, it was now as 
light and moist as if but a few hours out of the oven. 
Tasting a crumb, which had fallen on the table, she 
found it more delicious than bread ever was before, 
and could hardly believe that it was a loaf of her own 
kneading and baking. Yet, what other loaf could it 
possibly be? 

But, oh the honey! I may just as well let it alone, 
without trying to describe how exquisitely it smelt and 
looked. Its colour was that of the purest and most 
transparent gold; and it had the odour of a thousand 
flowers; but of such flowers as never grew in an earthly 
garden, and to seek which the bees must have flown 
high above the clouds. The wonder is, that, after 
alighting on a flower bed of so delicious fragrance and 
immortal bloom, they should have been content to fly 
down again to their hive in Philemon’s garden. Never 
was such honey tasted, seen, or smelt. The perfume 
floated around the kitchen, and made it so delightful, 
that, had you closed your eyes, you would instantly 
have forgotten the low ceiling and smoky walls, and have 
fancied yourself in an 'arbour, with celestial honeysuckles 
creeping over it. 

Although good Mother Baucis was a simple old 
dame, she could not but think that there was something 
rather out of the common way, in all that had been 


1 88 Myths Every Child Should Know 

going on. So, after helping the guests to bread and 
honey, and laying a bunch of grapes by each of their 
plates, she sat down by Philemon, and told him what she 
had seen, in a whisper. 

“Did you ever hear the like ?” asked she. 

“No, I never did,” answered Philemon, with a smile. 
“And I rather think, my dear old wife, you have been 
walking about in a sort of a dream. If I had poured 
out the milk, I should have seen through the business 
at once. There happened to be a little more in the 
pitcher than you thought — that is all.” 

“Ah, husband,” said Baucis, “say what you will, 
these are very uncommon people.” 

“Well, well,” replied Philemon, still smiling, “perhaps 
they are. They certainly do look as if they had seen 
better days; and I am heartily glad to see them making 
so comfortable a supper.” 

Each of the guests had now taken his bunch of grapes 
upon his plate. Baucis (who rubbed her eyes, in order 
to see the more clearly) was of opinion that the clusters 
had grown larger and richer, and that each separate 
grape seemed to be on the point of bursting with ripe 
juice. It was entirely a mystery to her how such grapes 
could ever have been produced from the old stunted vine 
that climbed against the cottage wall. 

“Very admirable grapes these!” observed Quicksilver, 
as he swallowed one after another, without apparently 
diminishing his cluster. “Pray, my good host, whence 
did you gather them?” 

“From my own vine,” answered Philemon. “You 
may see one of its branches twisting across the window, 
yonder. But wife and I never thought the grapes very 
fine ones.” 


The Miraculous Pitcher 


189 


“I never tasted better,” said the guest. “Another 
cup of this delicious milk, if you please, and I shall then 
have supped better than a prince.” 

This time, old Philemon bestirred himself, and took 
up the pitcher; for he was curious to discover whether 
there was any reality in the marvels which Baucis had 
whispered to him. He knew that his good old wife 
was incapable of falsehood, and that she was seldom 
mistaken in what she supposed to be true; but this 
was so very singular a case, that he wanted to see into 
it with his own eyes. On taking up the pitcher, there- 
fore, he slyly peeped into it, and was fully satisfied 
that it contained not so much as a single drop. All at 
once, however, he beheld a little white fountain, which 
gushed up from the bottom of the pitcher, and speedily 
filled it to the brim with foaming and deliciously fragrant 
milk. It was lucky that Philemon, in his surprise, 
did not drop the miraculous pitcher from his hand. 

“Who are ye, wonder-working strangers!” cried he, 
even more bewildered than his wife had been. 

“Your guests, my good Philemon, and your friends,” 
replied the elder traveller, in his mild, deep voice, that 
had something at once sweet and awe-inspiring in it. 
“Give me likewise a cup of the milk; and may your 
pitcher never be empty for kind Baucis and yourself, 
any more than for the needy wayfarer!” 

The supper being now over, the strangers requested 
to be shown to their place of repose. The old people 
would gladly have talked with them a little longer, and 
have expressed the wonder which they felt, and their 
delight at finding the poor and meagre supper prove 
so much better and more abundant than they hoped. 
But the elder traveller had inspired them with such 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


190 

reverence, that they dared not ask him any questions. 
And when Philemon drew Quicksilver aside, and inquired 
how under the sun a fountain of milk could have got 
into an old earthen pitcher, this latter personage 
pointed to his staff. 

“There is the whole mystery of the affair,” quoth 
Quicksilver; “and if you can make it out, I’ll thank 
you to let me know. I can’t tell what to make of my 
staff. It is always playing such odd tricks as this; 
sometimes getting me a supper, and, quite as often, 
stealing it away. If I had any faith in such nonsense, 
I should say the stick was bewitched!” 

He said no more, but looked so slyly in their faces, 
that they rather fancied he was laughing at them. The 
magic staff went hopping at his heels, as Quicksilver 
quitted the room. When left alone, the good old couple 
spent some little time in conversation about the events 
of the evening, and then lay down on the floor, and fell 
fast asleep. They had giv^n up their sleeping room to 
the guests, and had no other bed for themselves, save 
these planks, which I wish had been as soft as their 
own hearts. 

The old man and his wife were stirring, betimes, in 
the morning, and the strangers likewise arose with the 
sun, and made their preparations to depart. Philemon 
hospitably entreated them to remain a little longer, 
until Baucis could milk the cow, and bake a cake upon 
the hearth, and, perhaps, find them a few fresh eggs 
for breakfast. The guests, however, seemed to think 
it better to accomplish a good part of their journey 
before the heat of the day should come on. They, 
therefore, persisted in setting out immediately, but 
asked Philemon and Baucis to walk forth with them 


The Miraculous Pitcher 


191 

a short distance, and show them the road which they 
were to take. 

So they all four issued from the cottage, chatting 
together like old friends. It was very remarkable, 
indeed, how familiar the old couple insensibly grew with 
the elder traveller, and how their good and simple 
spirits melted into his, even as two drops of water would 
melt into the illimitable ocean. And as for Quicksilver, 
with his keen, quick, laughing wits, he appeared to 
discover every little thought that but peeped into their 
minds, before they suspected it themselves. They 
sometimes wished, it is true, that he had not been quite 
so quick-witted, and also that he would fling away his 
staff, which looked so mysteriously mischievous, with 
the snakes always writhing about it. But then, again, 
Quicksilver showed himself so very good humoured 
that they would have been rejoiced to keep him in their 
cottage, staff, snakes, and all, every day, and the whole 
day long. 

“Ah me! Well-a-day!” exclaimed Philemon, when 
they had walked a little way from their door. “If our 
neighbours only knew what a blessed thing it is to show 
hospitality to strangers, they would tie up all their 
dogs, and' never allow their children to fling another 
stone.” 

“It is a sin and shame for them to behave so — that 
it is!” cried good old Baucis, vehemently. “And I 
mean to go this very day, and tell some of them what 
naughty people they are!” 

“I fear,” remarked Quicksilver, slyly smiling, “that 
you will find none of them at home.” 

The elder traveller’s brow, just then, assumed such 
a grave, stern, and awful grandeur, yet serene withal^ 


192 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


that neither Baucis nor Philemon dared to speak a 
word. They gazed reverently into his face, as if they 
had been gazing at the sky. 

“When men do not feel toward the humblest stranger 
as if he were a brother,” said the traveller, in tones 
so deep that they sounded like those of an organ, “they 
are unworthy to exist on earth, which was created as 
the abode of a great human brotherhood!” 

“And, by the by, my dear old people,” cried Quick- 
silver, with the liveliest look of fun and mischief in 
his eyes, “where is this same village that you talk about? 
On which side of us does it lie? Methinks I do not see 
it hereabouts.” 

Philemon and his wife turned toward the valley, 
where, at sunset, only the day before, they had seen 
the meadows, the houses, the gardens, the clumps of 
trees, the wide, green-margined street, with children 
playing in it, and all the tokens of business, enjoyment, 
and prosperity. But what was their astonishment! 
There was no longer any appearance of a village! Even 
the fertile vale, in the hollow of which it lay, had ceased 
to have existence. In its stead, they beheld the broad, 
blue surface of a lake, which filled the great basin of the 
valley from brim to brim, and reflected the surrounding 
hills in its bosom with as tranquil an image as if it had 
been there ever since the creation of the world. For an 
instant, the lake remained perfectly smooth. Then a 
little breeze sprang up, and caused the water to dance, 
glitter, and sparkle in the early sunbeams, and to dash, 
with a pleasant rippling murmur, against the hither 
shore. 

The lake seemed so strangely familiar that the old 
couple were greatly perplexed, and felt as if they could 


The Miraculous Pitcher 


193 


only have been dreaming about a village having lain 
there. But, the next moment, they remembered the 
vanished dwellings, and the faces and characters of 
the inhabitants, far too distinctly for a dream. The 
village had been there yesterday, and now was gone! 

“Alas!” cried the kind-hearted old people, “what 
has become of our poor neighbours?” 

“They exist no longer as men and women,” said the 
elder traveller, in his grand and deep voice, while a 
roll of thunder seemed to echo it at a distance. “There 
was neither use nor beauty in such a life as theirs; for 
they never softened or sweetened the hard lot of mortality 
by the exercise of kindly affections between man and 
man. They retained no image of the better life in their 
bosoms; therefore, the lake, that was of old, has spread 
itself forth again, to reflect the sky!” 

“And as for those foolish people,” said Quicksilver, 
with his mischievous smile, “they are all transformed 
to fishes. There needed but little change, for they 
were already a scaly set of rascals, and the coldest- 
blooded beings in existence. So, kind Mother Baucis, 
whenever you or your husband have an appetite for a 
dish of broiled trout, he can throw in a line, and pull 
out half a dozen of your old neighbours!” 

“Ah,” cried Baucis, shuddering, “I would not, for 
the world, put one of them on the gridiron!” 

“No,” added Philemon, making a wry face, “we 
could never relish them!” 

“As for you, good Philemon,” continued the elder 
traveller — “and you, kind Baucis — you, with your 
scanty means, have mingled so much heartfelt hospitality 
with your entertainment of the homeless stranger, that 
the milk became an inexhaustible fount of nectar, and 


194 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


the brown loaf and the honey were ambrosia. Thus, the 
divinities have feasted, at your board, off the same viands 
that supply their banquets on Olympus. You have 
done well, my dear old friends. Wherefore, request 
whatever favour you have most at heart, and it is granted.” 

Philemon and Baucis looked at one another, and 
then— I know not which of the two it was who spoke, 
but that one uttered the desire of both their hearts. 

“Let us live together, while we live, and leave the 
world at the same instant, when we die! For we have 
always loved one another!” 

“Be it so!” replied the stranger, with majestic kind- 
ness. “Now, look toward your cottage!” 

They did so. But what was their surprise on behold- 
ing a tall edifice of white marble, with a wide-open portal, 
occupying the spot where their humble residence had so 
lately stood! 

“There is your home,” said the stranger, beneficently 
smiling on them both. “Exercise your hospitality in 
yonder palace as freely as in the poor hovel to which 
you welcomed us last evening.” 

The old folks fell on their knees to thank him; but, 
behold! neither he nor Quicksilver was there. 

So Philemon and Baucis took up their residence in 
the marble palace, and spent their time, with vast sat- 
isfaction to themselves, in making everybody jolly and 
comfortable who happened to pass that way. The 
milk pitcher, I must not forget to say, retained its mar- 
vellous quality of being never empty, when it was desir- 
able to have it full. Whenever an honest, good- 
humoured, and free-hearted guest took a draught from 
this pitcher, he invariably found it the sweetest and 
most invigorating fluid that ever ran down his throat. 


The Miraculous Pitcher 


i95 


But, if a cross and disagreeable curmudgeon happened 
to sip, he was pretty certain to twist his visage into a 
hard knot, and pronounce it a pitcher of sour milk! 

Thus the old couple lived in their palace a great, great 
while, and grew older and older, and very old indeed. 
At length, however, there came a summer morning 
when Philemon and Baucis failed to make their appear- 
ance, as on other mornings, with one hospitable smile 
overspreading both their pleasant faces, to invite the 
guests of over night to breakfast. The guests searched 
everywhere, from top to bottom of the spacious palace, 
and all to no purpose. But, after a great deal of perplex- 
ity, they espied, in front of the portal, two venerable 
trees, which nobody could remember to have seen there 
the day before. Yet there they stood, with their roots 
fastened deep into the soil, and a huge breadth of foliage 
overshadowing the whole front of the edifice. One was 
an oak, and the other a linden tree. Their boughs — it 
was strange and beautiful to see — were intertwined 
together, and embraced one another, so that each tree 
seemed to live in the other tree’s bosom much more than 
in its own. 

While the guests were marvelling how these trees, 
that must have required at least a century to grow, 
could have come to be so tall and venerable in a single 
night, a breeze sprang up, and set their intermingled 
boughs astir. And then there was a deep, broad murmur 
in the air, as if the two mysterious trees were speaking. 

“Iam old Philemon!” murmured the oak. 

“Iam old Baucis!” murmured the linden tree. 

But, as the breeze grew stronger, the trees both spoke 
at once — “Philemon! Baucis! Baucis! Philemon f” — as 
if one were both and both were one, and talked together 


196 Myths Every Child Should Know 

in the depths of their mutual heart. It was plain enough 
to perceive that the good old couple had renewed their 
age, and were now to spend a quiet and delightful hun- 
dred years or so, Philemon as an oak, and Baucis as a 
linden tree. And oh, what a hospitable shade did they 
fling around them. Whenever a wayfarer paused be- 
neath it, he heard a pleasant whisper of the leaves above 
his head, and wondered how the sound should so much 
resemble words like these: 

“Welcome, welcome, dear traveller, welcome !” 

And some kind soul, that knew what would have 
pleased old Baucis and old Philemon best, built a cir- 
cular seat around both their trunks, where, for a great 
while afterward the weary, and the hungry, and the 
thirsty used to repose themselves, and quaff milk abun- 
dantly out of the miraculous pitcher. 

And I wish, for all our sakes, that we had the pitcher 
here now! 


CHAPTER VIII 


THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN 

Long, long ago, when this old world was in its tender 
infancy, there was a child, named Epimetheus, who never 
had either father or mother; and, that he might not be 
lonely, another child, fatherless and motherless like him- 
self, was sent from a far country, to live with him, and be 
his playfellow and helpmate. Her name was Pandora. 

The first thing that Pandora saw, when she entered 
the cottage where Epimetheus dwelt, was a great box. 
And almost the first question which she put to him, 
after crossing the threshold, was this: 

“Epimetheus, what have you in that box?” 

“My dear little Pandora,” answered Epimetheus, 
“that is a secret, and you must be kind enough not to 
ask any questions about it. The box was left here to 
be kept safely, and I do not myself know what it con- 
tains.” 

“But who gave it to you?” asked Pandora. “And 
where did it come from?” 

“That is a secret, too,” replied Epimetheus. 

“How provoking!” exclaimed Pandora, pouting her 
lip. “I wish the great ugly box were out of the way!” 

“Oh, come, don’t think of it any more,” cried Epime- 
theus. “Let us run out of doors, and have some nice 
play with the other children.” 

It is thousands of years since Epimetheus and Pan- 
197 


198 Myths Every Child Should Know 

dora were alive; and the world, nowadays, is a very 
different sort of thing from what it was in their time. 
Then, everybody was a child. There needed no fathers 
and mothers to take care of the children; because there 
was no danger, nor trouble of any kind, and no clothes 
to be mended, and there was always plenty to eat and 
drink. Whenever a child wanted his dinner, he found 
it growing on a tree; and, if he looked at the tree in the 
morning, he could see the expanding blossom of that 
night’s supper; or, at eventide, he saw the tender bud of 
to-morrow’s breakfast. It was a very pleasant life indeed. 
No labour to be done, no tasks to be studied; nothing 
but sports and dances, and sweet voices of children talk- 
ing, or carolling like birds, or gushing out in merry laugh- 
ter, throughout the livelong day. 

What was most wonderful of all, the children never 
quarrelled among themselves; neither had they any 
crying fits; nor, since time first began, had a single 
one of these little mortals ever gone apart into a corner, 
and sulked. Oh, what a good time was that to be alive 
in! The truth is, those ugly little winged monsters, 
called Troubles, which are now almost as numerous as 
mosquitoes, had never yet been seen on the earth. It 
is probable that the very greatest disquietude which a 
child had ever experienced was Pandora’s vexation at 
not being able to discover the secret of the mysterious 
box. 

This was at first only the faint shadow of a Trouble; 
but, every day, it grew more and more substantial, 
until, before a great while, the cottage of Epimetheus 
and Pandora was less sunshiny than those of the other 
children. 

“Whence can the box have come?” Pandora con- 


The Paradise of Children 


199 


tinually kept saying to herself and to Epimetheus. “ And 
what in the world can be inside of it?” 

“ Always talking about this box!” said Epimetheus, 
at last; for he had grown extremely tired of the subject. 
“I wish, dear Pandora, you would try to talk of some- 
thing else. Come, let us go and gather some ripe figs, 
and eat them under the trees, for our supper. And I 
know a vine that has the sweetest and juiciest grapes 
you ever tasted.” 

“Always talking about grapes and figs!” cried Pandora, 
pettishly. 

“Well, then,” said Epimetheus, who was a very good- 
tempered child, like a multitude of children in those 
days, “let us run out and have a merry time with our 
playmates.” 

“I am tired of merry times, and don’t care if I never 
have any more!” answered our pettish little Pandora. 
“And, besides, I never do have any. This ugly box! 
I am so taken up with thinking about it all the time. I 
insist upon your telling me what is inside of it.” 

“As I have already said, fifty times over, I do not 
know ! ” replied Epimetheus, getting a little vexed. “How, 
then, can I tell you what is inside?” 

“You might open it,” said Pandora, looking side- 
ways at Epimetheus, “and then we could see for our- 
selves.” 

“Pandora, what are you thinking of?” exclaimed 
Epimetheus. 

And his face expressed so much horror at the idea 
of looking into a box, which had been confided to him 
on the condition of his never opening it, that Pandora 
thought it best not to suggest it any more. Still, however, 
she could not help thinking and talking about the box. 


200 Myths Every Child Should Know 

“At least,” said she, “you can tell me how it came 
here.” 

“It was left at the door,” replied Epimetheus, “just 
before you came, by a person who looked very smiling 
and intelligent, and who could hardly forbear laughing 
as he put it down. He was dressed in an odd kind of a 
cloak, and had on a cap that seemed to be made partly 
of feathers, so that it looked almost as if it had wings.” 

“What sort of a staff had he?” asked Pandora. 

“Oh, the most curious staff you ever saw!” cried 
Epimetheus. “It was like two serpents twisting around 
a stick, and was carved so naturally that I, at first, thought 
the serpents were alive.” 

“I know him,” said Pandora, thoughtfully. “No- 
body else has such a staff. It was Quicksilver; and 
he brought me hither, as well as the box. No doubt 
he intended it for me; and, most probably, it contains 
pretty dresses for me to wear, or toys for you and me 
to play with, or something very nice for us both to eat!” 

“Perhaps so,” answered Epimetheus, turning away. 
“But until Quicksilver comes back and tells us so, we 
have neither of us any right to lift the lid of the box.” 

“What a dull boy he is!” muttered Pandora, as 
Epimetheus left the cottage. “I do wish he had a 
little more enterprise!” 

For the first time since her arrival, Epimetheus had 
gone out without asking Pandora to accompany him. 
He went to gather figs and grapes by himself, or to 
seek whatever amusement he could find, in other society 
than his little playfellow’s. He was tired to death 
of hearing about the box, and heartily wished that 
Quicksilver, or whatever was the messenger’s name, 
had left it at some other child’s door, where Pandora 


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201 


would never have set eyes on it. So perseveringly as 
did she babble about this one thing 1 The box, the 
box, and nothing but the box! It seemed as if the box 
were bewitched, and as if the cottage were not big enough 
to hold it, without Pandora’s continually stumbling over 
it, and making Epimetheus stumble over it likewise, and 
bruising all four of their shins. 

Well, it was really hard that poor Epimetheus should 
have a box in his ears from morning till night; especially 
as the little people of the earth were so unaccustomed 
to vexations, in those happy days, that they knew not 
how to deal with them. Thus, a small vexation made 
as much disturbance then as a far bigger one would in 
our own times. 

After Epimetheus was gone, Pandora stood gazing 
at the box. She had called it ugly, above a hundred 
times; but, in spite of all that she had said against it, 
it was positively a very handsome article of furniture, 
and would have been quite an ornament to any room 
in which it should be placed. It was made of a beau- 
tiful kind of wood, with dark and rich veins spreading 
over its surface, which was so highly polished that little 
Pandora could see her face in it. As the child had no 
other looking glass, it is odd that she did not value the 
box, merely on this account. 

The edges and corners of the box were carved with 
most wonderful skill. Around the margin there were 
figures of graceful men and women, and the prettiest 
children ever seen, reclining or sporting amid a pro- 
fusion of flowers and foliage; and these various objects 
were so exquisitely represented, and were wrought 
together in such harmony, that flowers, foliage, and 
human beings seemed to combine into a wreath of mingled 


202 Myths Every Child Should Know 

beauty. But here and there, peeping forth from behind 
the carved foliage, Pandora once or twice fancied that 
she saw a face not so lovely, or something or other that 
was disagreeable, and which stole the beauty out of all 
the rest. Nevertheless, on looking more closely, and 
touching the spot with her finger, she could discover 
nothing of the kind. Some face that was really beautiful 
had been made to look ugly by her catching a sideway 
glimpse at it. 

The most beautiful face of all was done in what is 
called high relief, in the centre of the lid. There was 
nothing else, save the dark, smooth richness of the 
polished wood, and this one face in the centre, with a 
garland of flowers about its brow. Pandora had looked 
at this face a great many times, and imagined that the 
mouth could smile if it liked, or be grave when it chose, 
the same as any living mouth. The features, indeed, 
all wore a very lively and rather mischievous expression, 
which looked almost as if it needs must burst out of 
the carved lips, and utter itself in words. 

Had the mouth spoken, it would probably have been 
something like this: 

“Do not be afraid, Pandora! What harm can there 
be in opening the box? Never mind that poor, simple 
Epimetheus! You are wiser than he, and have ten 
times as much spirit. Open the box, and see if you do 
not find something very pretty !” 

The box, I had almost forgotten to say, was fastened; 
not by a lock, nor by any other such contrivance, but 
by a very intricate knot of gold cord. There appeared 
to be no end to this knot, and no beginning. Never 
was a knot so cunningly twisted, nor with so many ins 
and outs, which roguishly defied the skilfullest fingers 


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203 


to disentangle them. And yet, by the very difficulty 
that there was in it, Pandora was the more tempted to 
examine the knot, and just see how it was made. Two 
or three times, already, she had stooped over the box, 
and taken the knot between her thumb and forefinger, 
but without positively trying to undo it. 

“I really believe,” said she to herself, “that I begin 
to see how it was done. Nay, perhaps I could tie it 
up again, after undoing it. There would be no harm 
in that, surely. Even Epimetheus would not blame 
me for that. I need not open the box, and should not, 
of course, without the foolish boy’s consent, even if the 
knot were untied.” 

It might have been better for Pandora if she had 
had a little work to do, or anything to employ her mind 
upon, so as not to be so constantly thinking of this one 
subject. But children led so easy a life, before any 
Troubles came into the world, that they had really a 
great deal too much leisure. They could not be forever 
playing at hide-and-seek among the flower shrubs, or 
at blind-man’s-buff with garlands over their eyes, or at 
'whatever other games had been found out, while Mother 
Earth was in her babyhood. When life is all sport, toil 
is the real play. There was absolutely nothing to do. 
A little sweeping and dusting about the Cottage, I sup- 
pose, and the gathering of fresh flowers (which were only 
too abundant everywhere), and arranging them in vases 
— and poor little Pandora’s day’s work was over. And 
then, for the rest of the day, there was the box! 

After all, I am not quite sure that the box was not 
a blessing to her in its way. It supplied her with such 
a variety of ideas to think of, and to talk about, when- 
ever she had anybody to listen! When she was in good 


204 Myths Every Child Should Know 

humour, she could admire the bright polish of its sides, 
and the rich border of beautiful faces and foliage that 
ran all around it. Or, if she chanced to be ill-tempered, 
she could give it a push, or kick it with her naughty 
little foot. And many a kick did the box — (but it was 
a mischievous box, as we shall see, and deserved all it 
got) — many a kick did it receive^ But, certain it is, 
if it had not been for the box, our active-minded little 
Pandora would not have known half so well how to spend 
her time as she now did. 

For it was really an endless employment to guess 
what was inside. What could it be, indeed? Just 
imagine, my little hearers, how busy your wits would 
be, if there were a great box in the house, which, as you 
might have reason to suppose, contained something new 
and pretty for your Christmas or New Year’s gifts. Do 
you think that you should be less curious than Pandora ? 
If you were left alone with the box, might you not feel 
a little tempted to lift the lid? But you would not do 
it. Oh, fie! No, no! Only, if you thought there were 
toys in it, it would be so very hard to let slip an oppor- 
tunity of taking just one peep! I know not whether 
Pandora expected any toys; for none had yet begun to 
be made, probably, in those days, when the world itself 
was one great plaything for the children that dwelt 
upon it. But Pandora was convinced that there was 
something very beautiful and valuable in the box; and 
therefore she felt just as anxious to take a peep as any 
of these little girls, here around me, would have felt. 
And, possibly, a little more so; but of that I am not 
quite so certain. 

On this particular day, however, which we have so 
long been talking about, her curiosity grew so much 


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205 


greater than it usually was, that, at last, she approached 
the box. She was more than half determined to open it, 
if she could. Ah, naughty Pandora! 

First, however, she tried to lift it. It was heavy; quite 
too heavy for the slender strength of a child like Pandora. 
She raised one end of the box a few inches from the 
floor, and let it fall again, with a pretty loud thump. 
A moment afterward, she almost fancied that she heard 
something stir inside of the box. She applied her ear as 
closely as possible, and listened. Positively, there did 
seem to be a kind of stifled murmur within! Or was it 
merely the singing in Pandora’s ears? Or could it be 
the beating of her heart? The child could not quite 
satisfy herself whether she had heard anything or no. 
But, at all events, her curiosity was stronger than ever. 

As she drew back her head, her eyes fell upon the 
knot of gold cord. 

“It must have been a very ingenious person who 
tied this knot,” said Pandora to herself. “But I think 
I could untie it nevertheless. I am resolved, at least, 
to find the two ends of the cord.” 

So she took the golden knot in her fingers, and pried 
into its intricacies as sharply as she could. Almost 
without intending it, or quite knowing what she was 
about, she was soon busily engaged in attempting to undo 
it. Meanwhile, the bright sunshine came through the 
open window; as did likewise the merry voices of the 
children, playing at a distance, and perhaps the voice 
of Epimetheus among them. Pandora stopped to listen. 
What a beautiful day it was! Would it not be wiser if 
she were to let the troublesome knot alone, and think no 
more about the box, but run and join her little playfellow 
and be happy? 


206 Myths Every Child Should Know 

All this time, however, her fingers were half uncon- 
sciously busy with the knot; and happening to glance at 
the flower-wreathed face on the lid of the enchanted box, 
she seemed to perceive it slyly grinning at her. 

“That face looks very mischievous,” thought Pandora. 
“I wonder whether it smiles because I am doing wrong! 
I have the greatest mind in the world to run away!” 

But just then, by the merest accident, she gave the 
knot a kind of twist, which produced a wonderful result. 
The gold cord untwined itself, as if by magic, and left the 
box without a fastening. 

“This is the strangest thing I ever knew! ” said Pandora. 
“What will Epimetheus say? And how can I possibly 
tie it up again?” 

She made one or two attempts to restore the knot, 
but soon found it quite beyond her skill. It had disen- 
tangled itself so suddenly that she could not in the 
least remember how the strings had been doubled into 
one another; and when she tried to recollect the shape 
and appearance of the knot, it seemed to have gone 
entirely out of her mind. Nothing was to be done, 
therefore, but to let the box remain as it was until Epime- 
theus should come in. 

“But,” said Pandora, “when he finds the knot untied, 
he will know that I have done it. How shall I make him 
believe that I have not looked into the box?” 

And then the thought came into her naughty little 
heart, that, since she would be suspected of having 
looked into the box, she might just as well do so at 
once. Oh, very naughty and very foolish Pandora! 
You should have thought only of doing what was right, 
and of leaving undone what was wrong, and not of 
what your playfellow Epimetheus would have said or 


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207 


believed. And so perhaps she might, if the enchanted 
face on the lid of the box had not looked so bewitchingly 
persuasive at her, and if she had not seemed to hear, 
more distinctly, than before, the murmur of small voices 
within. She could not tell whether it was fancy or no; 
but there was quite a little tumult of whispers in her 
ear — or else it was her curiosity that whispered: 

“Let us out, dear Pandora — pray let us out! We 
will be such nice pretty playfellows for you! Only 
let us out!” 

“What can it be?” thought Pandora. “Is there 
something alive in the box? Well — yes! — I am resolved 
to take just one peep! Only one peep; and then the 
lid shall be shut down as safely as ever! There cannot 
possibly be any harm in just one little peep!” 

But it is now time for us to see what Epimetheus 
was doing. 

This was the first time, since his little playmate had 
come to dwell with him, that he had attempted to enjoy 
any pleasure in which she did not partake. But nothing 
went right; nor was he nearly so happy as on other days. 
He could not find a sweet grape or a ripe fig (if Epimetheus 
had a fault, it was a little too much fondness for figs) ; or, 
if ripe at all, they were overripe, and so sweet as to be 
cloying. There was no mirth in his heart, such as 
usually made his voice gush out, of its own accord, and 
swell the merriment of his companions. In short, he 
grew so uneasy and discontented, that the other children 
could not imagine what was the matter with Epimetheus. 
Neither did he himself know what ailed him, any better 
than they did. For you must recollect that, at the time we 
are speaking of, it was everybody’s nature, and constant 
habit, to be happy. The world had not yet learned to be 


208 Myths Every Child Should Know 

otherwise. Not a single soul or body, since these children 
were first sent to enjoy themselves on the beautiful earth, 
had ever been sick or out of sorts. 

At length, discovering that, somehow or other, he 
put a stop to all the play, Epimetheus judged it best 
to go back to Pandora, who was in a humour better 
suited to his own. But, with a hope of giving her 
pleasure, he gathered some flowers, and made them 
into a wreath, which he meant to put upon her head. 
The flowers were very lovely — roses, and lilies, and 
orange blossoms, and a great many more, which left a 
trail of fragrance behind, as Epimetheus carried them 
along; and the wreath was put together with as much 
skill as could reasonably be expected of a boy. The 
fingers of little girls, it has always appeared to me, are 
the fittest to twine flower wreaths; but boys could do it, 
in those days, rather better than they can now. 

And here I must mention that a great black cloud 
had been gathering in the sky, for some time past, although 
it had not yet overspread the sun. But, just as Epime- 
theus reached the cottage door, this cloud began to 
intercept the sunshine, and thus to make a sudden and 
sad obscurity. 

He entered softly, for he meant, if possible, to steal 
behind Pandora, and fling the wreath of flowers over 
her head, before she should be aware of his approach. 
But, as it happened, there was no need of his treading 
so very lightly. He might have trod as heavily as he 
pleased — as heavily as a grown man — as heavily, I was 
going to say, as an elephant — without much probability 
of Pandora’s hearing his footsteps. She was too intent 
upon her purpose. At the moment of his entering the 
cottage, the naughty child had put her hand to the lid, and 


The Paradise of Children 


2og 


was on the point of opening the mysterious box. Epime- 
theus beheld her. If he had cried out, Pandora would 
probably have withdrawn her hand, and the fatal mystery 
of the box might never have been known. 

But Epimetheus himself, although he said very little 
about it, had his own share of curiosity to know what was 
inside. Perceiving that Pandora was resolved to find out 
the secret, he determined that his playfellow should not be 
the only wise person in the cottage. And if there were 
anything pretty or valuable in the box, he meant to take 
half of it to himself. Thus, after all his sage speeches to 
Pandora about restraining her curiosity, Epimetheus 
turned out to be quite as foolish, and nearly as much in 
fault as she. So, whenever we blame Pandora for what 
happened, we must not forget to shake our heads at 
Epimetheus likewise. 

As Pandora raised the lid, the cottage grew very dark 
and dismal; for the black cloud had now swept quite over 
the sun, and seemed to have buried it alive. There had 
for a little while past been a low growling and muttering, 
which all at once broke into a heavy peal of thunder. 
But Pandora, heeding nothing of all this, lifted the lid 
nearly upright, and looked inside. It seemed as if a 
sudden swarm of winged creatures brushed past her, 
taking flight out of the box, while, at the same instant, 
she heard the voice of Epimetheus, with a lamentable 
tone, as if he were in pain. 

“Oh, I am stung!” cried he. “I am stung! Naughty 
Pandora! why have you opened this wicked box?” 

Pandora let fall the lid, and, starting up, looked 
about her, to see what had befallen Epimetheus. The 
thunder cloud had so darkened the room that she could 
not very clearly discern what was in it. But she heard 


210 Myths Every Child Should Know 

a disagreeable buzzing, as if a great many huge flies, 
or gigantic mosquitoes, or those insects which we call 
dor bugs, and pinching dogs, were darting about. And, 
as her eyes grew more accustomed to the imperfect 
light, she saw a crowd of ugly little shapes, with bats’ 
wings, looking abominably spiteful, and armed with 
terribly long stings in their tails. It was one of these 
that had stung Epimetheus. Nor was it a great while 
before Pandora herself began to scream, in no less 
pain and affright than her playfellow, and making a 
vast deal more hubbub about it. An odious little 
monster had settled on her forehead, and would have 
stung her I know not how deeply, if Epimetheus had 
not run and brushed it away. 

Now, if you wish to know what these ugly things 
might be, which had made their escape out of the box, 
I must tell you that they were the whole family of earthly 
Troubles. There were evil Passions; there were a great 
many species of Cares; there were more than a hundred 
and fifty Sorrows; there were Diseases, in a vast number 
of miserable and painful shapes; there were more kinds 
of Naughtiness than it would be of any use to talk about. 
In short, everything that has since afflicted the souls 
and bodies of mankind had been shut up in the mysterious 
box, and given to Epimetheus and Pandora to be kept 
safely, in order that the happy children of the world might 
never be molested by them. Had they been faithful 
to their trust, all would have gone well. No grown person 
would ever have been sad, nor any child have had cause 
to shed a single tear, from that hour until this moment. 

But — and you may see by this how a wrong act of 
any one mortal is a calamity to the whole world — by 
Pandora’s lifting the lid of that miserable box, and by 


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211 


the fault of Epimetheus, too, in not preventing her, 
these Troubles have obtained a foothold among us, and 
do not seem very likely to be driven away in a hurry. 
For it was impossible, as you will easily guess, that the 
two children should keep the ugly swarms in their own 
little cottage. On the contrary, the first thing that they 
did was to fling open the doors and windows, in hopes 
of getting rid of them; and, sure enough, away flew the 
winged Troubles all abroad, and so pestered and tor- 
mented the small people, everywhere about, that none 
of them so much as smiled for many days afterward. 
And, what was very singular, all the flowers and dewy 
blossoms on earth not one of which had hitherto faded, 
now began to droop and shed their leaves, after a day or 
two. The children, moreover, who before seemed 
immortal in their childhood, now grew older, day by day, 
and came soon to be youths and maidens, and men and 
women by and by, and aged people, before they dreamed 
of such a thing. 

Meanwhile, the naughty Pandora, and hardly less 
naughty Epimetheus, remained in their cottage. Both 
of them had been grievously stung, and were in a good 
deal of pain, which seemed the more intolerable to 
them, because it was the very first pain that had ever 
been felt since the world began. Of course, they were 
entirely unaccustomed to it, and could have no idea 
what it meant. Besides all this, they were in exceedingly 
bad humour, both with themselves and with one another. 
In order to indulge it to the utmost, Epimetheus sat down 
sullenly in a corner with his back toward Pandora; while 
Pandora flung herself upon the floor and rested her head 
on the fatal and abominable box. She was crying 
bitterly, and sobbing as if her heart would break. 


212 Myths Every Child Should Know 

Suddenly there was a gentle little tap on the inside of 
the lid. 

“What can that be?” cried Pandora, lifting her head. 

But either Epimetheus had not heard the tap, or 
was too much out of humour to notice it. At any rate, 
he made no answer. 

“You are very unkind,” said Pandora, sobbing 
anew, “not to speak to me!” 

Again the tap! It sounded like the tiny knuckles 
of a fairy’s hand, knocking lightly and playfully on the 
inside of the box. 

“Who are you?” asked Pandora, with a little of her 
former curiosity. “Who are you, inside of this naughty 
box?” 

A sweet little voice spoke from within — 

“Only lift the lid, and you shall see.” 

“No, no,” answered Pandora, again beginning to 
sob, “I have had enough of lifting the lid! You are 
inside of the box, naughty creature, and there you shall 
stay! There are plenty of your ugly brothers and 
sisters already flying about the world. You need never 
think that I shall be so foolish as to let you out!” 

She looked toward Epimetheus, as she spoke, perhaps 
expecting that he would commend her for her wisdom. 
But the sullen boy only muttered that she was wise a 
little too late. 

“Ah,” said the sweet little voice again, “you had 
much better let me out. I am not like those naughty 
creatures that have stings in their tails. They are no 
brothers and sisters of mine, as you would see at once, 
if you were only to get a glimpse of me. Come, come, 
my pretty Pandora! I am sure you will let me out!” 

And, indeed, there was a kind of cheerful witchery 


The Paradise oj Children 


21 3 


in the tone, that made it almost impossible to refuse 
anything which this little voice asked. Pandora’s heart 
had insensibly grown lighter, at every word that came 
from within the box. Epimetheus, too, though still 
in the corner, had turned half round, and seemed to be 
in rather better spirits than before. 

“My dear Epimetheus,” cried Pandora, “have you 
heard this little voice?” 

“Yes, to be sure I have,” answered he, but in no very 
good humour as yet. “And what of it?” 

“Shall I lift the lid again?” asked Pandora. 

“Just as you please,” said Epimetheus. “You have 
done so much mischief already, that perhaps you may 
as well do a little more. One other Trouble, in such 
a swarm as you have set adrift about the world, can make 
no very great difference.” 

“You might speak a little more kindly!” murmured 
Pandora, wiping her eyes. 

“Ah, naughty boy!” cried the little voice within 
the box, in an arch and laughing tone. “He knows 
he is longing to see me. Come, my dear Pandora, 
lift up the lid. I am in a great hurry to comfort you. 
Only let me have some fresh air, and you shall soon 
see that matters are not quite so dismal as you think 
them!” 

“Epimetheus,” exclaimed Pandora, “come what 
may, I am resolved to open the box!” 

“And, as the lid seems very heavy,” cried Epimetheus, 
running across the room, “I will help you!” 

So, with one consent, the two children again lifted the 
lid. Out flew a sunny and smiling little personage, and 
hovered about the room, throwing a light wherever she 
went. Have you never made the sunshine dance into 


214 Myths Every Child Should Know 

dark corners, by reflecting it from a bit of looking 
glass? Well, so looked the winged cheerfulness of this 
fairy-like stranger, amid the gloom of the cottage. She 
flew to Epimetheus, and laid the least touch of her 
finger on the inflamed spot where the Trouble had stung 
him, and immediately the anguish of it was gone. Then 
she kissed Pandora on the forehead, and her hurt was 
cured likewise. 

After performing these good offices, the bright stranger 
fluttered sportively over the children’s heads, and 
looked so sweetly at them, that they both began to think 
it not so very much amiss to have opened the box, since, 
otherwise, their cheery guest must have been kept a 
prisoner among those naughty imps with stings in their 
tails. 

“Pray, who are you, beautiful creature?” inquired 
Pandora. 

“I am to be called Hope!” answered the sunshiny 
figure. “And because I am such a cheery little body, 
I was packed into the box, to make amends to the 
human race for that swarm of ugly Troubles, which was 
destined to be let loose among them. Never fear! we 
shall do pretty well in spite of them all.” 

“Your wings are coloured like the rainbow!” ex- 
claimed Pandora. “How very beautiful!” 

“Yes, they are like the rainbow,” said Hope, “because, 
glad as my nature is, I am partly made of tears as well as 
smiles.” 

“And will you stay with us,” asked Epimetheus, 
“forever and ever?” 

“As long as you need me,” said Hope, with her pleasant 
smile — “and that will be as long as you live in the world — 
I promise never to desert you. There may come times 


The Paradise of Children 


215 


and seasons, now and then, when you will think that I 
have utterly vanished. But again, and again, and again, 
when perhaps you least dream of it, you shall see the 
glimmer of my wings on the ceiling of your cottage. 
Yes, my dear children, and I know something very good 
and beautiful that is to be given you hereafter !” 

“Oh tell us,” they exclaimed — “tell us what it is!” 

“Do not ask me,” replied Hope, putting her finger 
on her rosy mouth. “But do not despair, even if it 
should never happen while you live on this earth. Trust 
in my promise, for it is true.” 

“We do trust you!” cried Epimetheus and Pandora, 
both in one breath. 

And so they did; and not only they, but so has every- 
body trusted Hope, that has since been alive. And 
to tell you the truth, I cannot help being glad — (though, 
to be sure, it was an uncommonly naughty thing for her 
to do) — but I cannot help being glad that our foolish 
Pandora peeped into the box. No doubt — no doubt — the 
Troubles are still flying about the world, and have in- 
creased in multitude, rather than lessened, and are a 
very ugly set of imps, and carry most venomous stings 
in their tails. I have felt them already, and expect to 
feel them more, as I grow older. But then that lovely 
and lightsome little figure of Hope! What in the world 
could we do without her? Hope spiritualises the earth; 
Hope makes it always new; and, even in the earth’s best 
and brightest aspect, Hope shows it to be only the shadow 
of an infinite bliss hereafter! 


CHAPTER IX 


THE CYCLOPS 

When the great city of Troy was taken, all the chiefs 
who had fought against it set sail for their homes. But 
there was wrath in heaven against them, for indeed they 
had borne themselves haughtily and cruelly in the day 
of their victory. Therefore they did not all find a safe and 
happy return. For one was shipwrecked, and another 
was shamefully slain by his false wife in his palace, and 
others found all things at home troubled and changed, 
and w r ere driven to seek new dwellings elsewhere. And 
some, whose wives and friends and people had been still 
true to them through those ten long years of absence, 
were driven far and wide about the world before they 
saw their native land again. And of all, the wise Ulysses 
was he who wandered farthest and suffered most. 

He was well-nigh the last to sail, for he had tarried 
many days to do pleasure to Agamemnon, lord of all 
the Greeks. Twelve ships he had with him — twelve 
he had brought to Troy — and in each there were some 
fifty men, being scarce half of those that had sailed in 
them in the old days, so many valiant heroes slept the 
last sleep by Simois and Scamander, and in the plain and 
on the seashore, slain in battle or by the shafts of Apollo. 

First they sailed northwest to the Thracian coast, 
where the Ciconians dwelt, who had helped the men of 
Troy. Their city they took, and in it much plunder, 
216 


The Cyclops 


217 


slaves and oxen, and jars of fragrant wine, and might 
have escaped unhurt, but that they stayed to hold revel 
on the shore. For the Ciconians gathered their neigh- 
bours, being men of the same blood, and did battle with 
the invaders, and drove them to their ship. And when 
Ulysses numbered his men, he found that he had lost six 
out of each ship. 

Scarce had he set out again when the wind began to 
blow fiercely; so, seeing a smooth sandy beach, they 
drave the ships ashore and dragged them out of reach of 
the waves, and waited till the storm should abate. And 
the third morning being fair, they sailed again, and 
journeyed prosperously till they came to the very end 
of the great Peloponnesian land, where Cape Malea looks 
out upon the southern sea. But contrary currents 
baffled them, so that they could not round it, and the 
north wind blew so strongly that they must fain drive 
before it. And on the tenth day they came to the land 
where the lotus grows — a wondrous fruit, of which 
whosoever eats cares not to see country or wife or children 
again. Now the Lotus eaters, for so they call the people 
of the land, were a kindly folk, and gave of the fruit to 
some of the sailors, not meaning them any harm, but 
thinking it to be the best that they had to give. These, 
when they had eaten, said that they would not sail any 
more over the sea; which, when the wise Ulysses heard, he 
bade their comrades bind them and carry them, sadly 
complaining, to the ships. 

Then, the wind having abated, they took to their 
oars, and rowed for many days till they came to the coun- 
try where the Cyclopes dwell. Now, a mile or so from 
the shore there was an island, very fair and fertile, but 
no man dwells there or tills the soil, and in the island a 


218 Myths Every Child Should Know 

harbour where a ship may be safe from all winds, and at 
the head of the harbour a stream falling from the rock, 
and whispering alders all about it. Into this the ships 
passed safely, and were hauled up on the beach, and the 
crews slept by them, waiting for the morning. And the 
next day they hunted the wild goats, of which there 
was great store on the island, and feasted right merrily 
on what they caught, with draughts of red wine which 
they had carried off from the town of the Ciconians. 

But on the morrow, Ulysses, for he was ever fond of 
adventure, and would know of every land to which he 
came what manner of men they were that dwelt there, 
took one of his twelve ships and bade row to the land. 
There was a great hill sloping to the shore, and there 
rose up here and there a smoke from the caves where the 
Cyclopes dwelt apart, holding no converse with each 
other, for they were a rude and savage folk, but ruled each 
his own household, not caring for others. Now very 
close to the shore was one of these caves, very huge and 
deep, with laurels round about the mouth, and in front 
a fold with walls built of rough stone, and shaded by tall 
oaks and pines. So Ulysses chose out of the crew the 
twelve bravest, and bade the rest guard the ship, and 
went to see what manner of dwelling this was, and who 
abode there. He had his sword by his side, and on his 
shoulder a mighty skin of wine, sweet smelling and 
strong, with which he might win the heart of some fierce 
savage, should he chance to meet with such, as indeed his 
prudent heart forecasted that he might. 

So they entered the cave, and judged that it was the 
dwelling of some rich and skilful shepherd. For within 
there were pens for the young of the sheep and of the 
goats, divided all according to their age, and there were 


The Cyclops 


219 


baskets full of cheeses, and full milkpails ranged along the 
wall. But the Cyclops himself was away in the pastures. 
Then the companions of Ulysses besought him that he 
would depart, taking with him, if he would, a store of 
cheeses and sundry of the lambs and of the kids. But 
he would not, for he wished to see, after his wont, what 
manner of host this strange shepherd might be. And 
truly he saw it to his cost! 

It was evening when the Cyclops came home, a 
mighty giant, twenty feet in height, or more. On his 
shoulder he bore a vast bundle of pine logs for his fire, 
and threw them down outside the cave with a great crash, 
and drove the flocks within, and closed the entrance 
with a huge rock, which twenty wagons and more could 
not bear. Then he milked the ewes and all the she 
goats, and half of the milk he curdled for cheese, and 
half he set ready for himself, when he should sup. Next 
he kindled a fire with the pine logs, and the flame lighted 
up all the cave, showing him Ulysses and his comrades. 

“Who are ye?” cried Polyphemus, for that was the 
giant’s name. “Are ye traders, or, haply, pirates?” 

For in those days it was not counted shame to be 
called a pirate. 

Ulysses shuddered at the dreadful voice and shape, 
but bore him bravely, and answered, “ We are no pirates, 
mighty sir, but Greeks, sailing back from Troy, and 
subjects of the great King Agamemnon, whose fame is 
spread from one end of heaven to the other. And we are 
come to beg hospitality of thee in the name of Zeus, who 
rewards or punishes hosts and guests according as they 
be faithful the one to the other, or no.” 

“Nay,” said the giant, “it is but idle talk to tell me of 
Zeus and the other gods. We Cyclopes take no account 


220 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


of gods, holding ourselves to be much better and stronger 
than they. But come, tell me where have you left your 
ship?” 

But Ulysses saw his thought when he asked about the 
ship, how he was minded to break it, and take from them 
all hope of flight. Therefore he answered him craftily: 

‘‘Ship have we none, for that which was ours King 
Poseidon brake, driving it on a jutting rock on this coast, 
and we whom thou seest are all that are escaped from the 
waves.” 

Polyphemus answered nothing, but without more ado 
caught up two of the men, as a man might catch up the 
whelps of a dog, and dashed them on the ground, and tore 
them limb from limb, and devoured them, with huge 
draughts of milk between, leaving not a morsel, not even 
the very bones. But the others, when they saw the dread- 
ful deed, could only weep and pray to Zeus for help. 
And when the giant had ended his foul meal, he lay down 
among his sheep and slept. 

Then Ulysses questioned much in his heart whether 
he should slay the monster as he slept, for he doubted not 
that his good sword would pierce to the giant’s heart, 
mighty as he was. But, being very wise, he remembered 
that, should he slay him, he and his comrades would yet 
perish miserably. For who should move away the great 
rock that lay against the door of the cave? So they 
waited till the morning. And the monster woke, and 
milked his flocks, and afterward, seizing two men, de- 
voured them for his meal. Then he went to the pastures, 
but put the great rock on the mouth of the cave, just as a 
man puts down the lid upon his quiver. 

All that day the wise Ulysses was thinking what he 
might best do to save himself and his companions, and 


The Cyclops 


221 


the end of his thinking was this: There was a mighty 
pole in the cave, green wood of an olive tree, big as a 
ship’s mast, which Polyphemus purposed to use, when 
the smoke should have dried it, as a walking staff. Of 
this he cut off a fathom’s length, and his comrades 
sharpened it and hardened it in the fire, and then hid it 
away. At evening the giant came back, and drove his 
sheep into the cave, nor left the rams outside, as he had 
been wont to do before, but shut them in. And having 
duly done his shepherd’s work, he made his cruel feast as 
before. Then Ulysses came forward with the wine skin 
in his hand, and said: 

“Drink, Cyclops, now that thou hast feasted. Drink, 
and see what precious things we had in our ship. But 
no one hereafter will come to thee with such like, if thou 
dealest with strangers as cruelly as thou hast dealt with 
us.” 

Then the Cyclops drank, and was mightily pleased, 
and said, “ Give me again to drink, and tell me thy name, 
stranger, and I will give thee a gift such as a host should 
give. In good truth this is a rare liquor. We, too, have 
vines, but they bear not wine like this, which indeed 
must be such as the gods drink in heaven.” 

Then Ulysses gave him the cup again, and he drank. 
Thrice he gave it to him, and thrice he drank, not knowing 
what it was, and how it would work within his brain. 

Then Ulysses spake to him. “Thou didst ask my 
name, Cyclops. Lo! my name is No Man. And now 
that thou knowest my name, thou shouldst give me thy 
gift.” 

And he said, “My gift shall be that I will eat thee last 
of all thy company.” 

And as he spake he fell back in a drunken sleep. Then 


222 Myths Every Child Should Know 

Ulysses bade his comrades be of good courage, for the 
time was come when they should be delivered. And they 
thrust the stake of olive wood into the fire till it was 
ready, green as it was, to burst into flame, and they 
thrust it into the monster’s eye; for he had but one eye, 
and that in the midst of his forehead, with the eyebrow 
below it. And Ulysses leant with all his force upon the 
stake, and thrust it in with might and main. And the 
burning wood hissed in the eye, just as the red-hot iron 
hisses in the water when a man seeks to temper steel for 
a sword. 

Then the giant leapt up, and tore away the stake, and 
cried aloud, so that all the Cyclopes who dwelt on the 
mountain side heard him and came about his cave, 
asking him, “What aileth thee, Polyphemus, that thou 
makest this uproar in the peaceful night, driving away 
sleep ? Is any one robbing thee of thy sheep, or seeking 
to slay thee by craft or force?” 

And the giant answered, “No Man slays me by craft.” 

“Nay, but,” they said, “if no man does thee wrong, 
we cannot help thee. The sickness which great Zeus may 
send, who can avoid ? Pray to our father, Poseidon, for 
help.” 

Then they departed; and Ulysses was glad at heart for 
the good success of his device, when he said that he was 
No Man. 

But the Cyclops rolled away the great stone from the 
door of the cave, and sat in the midst stretching out his 
hands, to feel whether perchance the men within the cave 
would seek to go out among the sheep. 

Long did Ulysses think how he and his comrades should 
best escape. At last he lighted upon a good device, and 
much he thanked Zeus for that this once the giant had 


The Cyclops 


223 


driven the rams with the other sheep into the cave. For, 
these being great and strong, he fastened his comrades 
under the bellies of the beasts, tying them with osier 
twigs, of which the giant made his bed. One ram he 
took, and fastened a man beneath it, and two others he 
set, one on either side. So he did with the six, for but 
six were left out of the twelve who had ventured with him 
from the ship. And there was one mighty ram, far 
larger than all the others, and to this Ulysses clung, 
grasping the fleece tight with both his hands. So they 
waited for the morning. And when the morning came, 
the rams rushed forth to the pasture; but the giant sat in 
the door and felt the back of each as it went by, nor 
thought to try what might be underneath. Last of all 
went the great ram. And the Cyclops knew him as he 
passed and said: 

“How is this, thou, who art the leader of the flock? 
Thou art net wont thus to lag behind. Thou hast always 
been the first to run to the pastures and streams in the 
morning, and the first to come back to the fold when even- 
ing fell; and now thou art last of all. Perhaps thou art 
troubled about thy master’s eye, which some wretch — 
No Man, they call him — has destroyed, having first mas- 
tered me with wine. He has not escaped, I ween. I 
would that thou couldst speak, and tell me where he is 
lurking. Of a truth I would dash out his brains upon the 
ground, and avenge me of this No Man.” 

So speaking, he let him pass out of the cave. But when 
they were out of reach of the giant, Ulysses loosed his hold 
of the ram, and then unbound his comrades. And they 
hastened to their ship, not forgetting to drive before them 
a good store of the Cyclops’ fat sheep. Right glad were 
those that had abode by the ship to see them. Nor did 


224 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


they lament for those that had died, though they were fain 
to do so, for Ulysses forbade, fearing lest the noise of their 
weeping should betray them to the giant, where they were. 
Then they all climbed into the ship, and sitting well in 
order on the benches, smote the sea with their oars, 
laying-to right lustily, that they might the sooner get away 
from the accursed land. And when they had rowed a 
hundred yards or so, so that a man’s voice could yet be 
heard by one who stood upon the shore, Ulysses stood up 
in the ship and shouted: 

“He was no coward, O Cyclops, whose comrades thou 
didst so foully slay in thy den. Justly art thou punished, 
monster, that devourest thy guests in thy dwelling. May 
the gods make thee suffer yet worse things than these !” 

Then the Cylops, in his wrath, broke off the top of a 
great hill, a mighty rock, and hurled it where he had 
heard the voice. Right in front of the ship’s bow it fell, 
and a great wave rose as it sank, and washed the ship 
back to the shore. But Ulysses seized a long pole with 
both hands and pushed the ship from the land, and bade 
his comrades ply their oars, nodding with his head, for 
he was too wise to speak, lest the Cyclops should know 
where they were. Then they rowed with all their might 
and main. 

And when they had gotten twice as far as before, 
Ulysses made as if he would speak again; but his com- 
rades sought to hinder him, saying, “Nay, my lord, anger 
not the giant any more. Surely we thought before we 
were lost, when he threw the great rock, and washed our 
ship back to the shore. And if he hear thee now, he may 
crush our ship and us, for the man throws a mighty bolt, 
and throws it far.” 

But Ulysses would not be persuaded, but stood up and 


The Cyclops 


225 


said, “Hear, Cyclops! If any man ask who blinded thee, 
say that it was the warrior Ulysses, son of Laertes, dwell- 
ing in Ithaca. ,, 

And the Cyclops answered with a groan, “Of a truth, 
the old oracles are fulfilled, for long ago there came to this 
land one Telemus, a prophet, and dwelt among us even 
to old age. This man foretold me that one Ulysses would 
rob me of my sight. But I looked for a great man and a 
strong, who should subdue me by force, and now a weak- 
ling has done the deed, having cheated me with wine. 
But come thou hither, Ulysses, and I will be a host indeed 
to thee. Or, at least, may Poseidon give thee such a 
voyage to thy home as I would wish thee to have. For 
know that Poseidon is my sire. May be that he may heal 
me of my grievous wound.” 

And Ulysses said, “Would to God, I could send thee 
down to the abode of the dead, where thou wouldst be past 
all healing, even from Poseidon’s self.” 

Then Cyclops lifted up his hands to Poseidon and 
prayed: 

“Hear me, Poseidon, if I am indeed thy son and thou 
my father. May this Ulysses never reach his home! or, 
if the Fates have ordered that he should reach it, may he 
come alone, all his comrades lost, and come to find sore 
trouble in his house!” 

And as he ended he hurled another mighty rock, which 
almost lighted on the rudder’s end, yet missed it as if by a 
hair’s breadth. So Ulysses and his comrades escaped, 
and came to the island of the wild goats, where they found 
their comrades, who indeed had waited long for them, in 
sore fear lest they had perished. Then Ulysses divided 
among his company all the sheep which they had taken 
from the Cyclops. And all, with one consent, gave him 


226 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


for his share the great ram which had carried him out of 
the cave, and he sacrificed it to Zeus. And all that day 
they feasted right merrily on the flesh of sheep and on 
sweet wine, and when the night was come, they lay down 
upon the shore and slept. 


CHAPTER X 


THE ARGONAUTS 


I 

How the Centaur Trained the Heroes on Pelion 

I have told you of a hero who fought with wild beasts 
and with wild men; but now I have a tale of heroes who 
sailed away into a distant land to win themselves renown 
forever, in the adventure of the Golden Fleece. 

Whither they sailed, my children, I cannot clearly tell. 
It all happened long ago; so long that it has all grown 
dim, like a dream which you dreamed last year. And why 
they went, I cannot tell; some say that it was to win gold. 
It may be so; but the noblest deeds which have been done 
on earth, have not been done for gold. It was not for the 
sake of gold that the Lord came down and died, and the 
Apostles went out to preach the good news in all lands. 
The Spartans looked for no reward in money when they 
fought and died at Thermopylas; and Socrates the wise 
asked no pay from his countrymen, but lived poor and 
barefoot all his days, only caring to make men good. And 
there are heroes in our days also, who do noble deeds, but 
not for gold. Our discoverers did not go to make them- 
selves rich, when they sailed out one after another into the 
dreary frozen seas; nor did the ladies, who went out last 
227 


228 Myths Every Child Should Know 

year, to drudge in the hospitals of the East, making them- 
selves poor, that they might be rich in noble works. And 
young men, too, whom you know, children, and some of 
them of your own kin, did they say to themselves, “How 
much money shall I earn?” when they went out to the 
war, leaving wealth, and comfort, and a pleasant home, 
and all that money can give, to face hunger and thirst, and 
wounds and death, that they might fight for their country 
and their Queen? No, children, there is a better thing 
on earth than wealth, a better thing than life itself; and 
that is, to have done something before you die, for which 
good men may honour you, and God your Father smile 
upon your work. 

Therefore we will believe — why should we not — of 
these same Argonauts of old, that they, too, were noble 
men, who planned and did a noble deed; and that there- 
fore their fame has lived, and been told in story and in 
song, mixed up, no doubt, with dreams and fables, yet 
true and right at heart. So we will honour these old 
Argonauts, and listen to their story as it stands; and we 
will try to be like them, each of us in our place; for 
each of us has a Golden Fleece to seek, and a wild sea to 
sail over, ere we reach it, and dragons to fight ere it be 
ours. 

And what was that first Golden Fleece? I do not 
know, nor care. The old Hellenes said that it hung in 
Colchis, which we call the Circassian coast, nailed to a 
beech tree in the war-god’s wood; and that it was the fleece 
of the wondrous ram, who bore Phrixus and Helle across 
the Euxine Sea. For Phrixus and Helle were the children 
of the cloud nymph, and of Athamas the Minuan king. 
And when a famine came upon the land, their cruel step- 
mother, Ino, wished to kill them, that her own children 


The Argonauts 


229 


might reign, and said that they must be sacrificed on an 
altar, to turn away the anger of the gods. So the poor 
children were brought to the altar, and the priest stood 
ready with his knife, when out of the clouds came the 
Golden Ram, and took them on his back, and vanished. 
Then madness came upon that foolish king Athamas, and 
ruin upon Ino and her children. For Athamas killed one 
of them in his fury, and Ino fled from him with the other 
in her arms, and leaped from a cliff into the sea, and was 
changed into a dolphin, such as you have seen, which 
wanders over the waves forever sighing, with its little one 
clasped to its breast. 

But the people drove out King Athamas, because he 
had killed his child; and he roamed about in his misery, 
till he came to the Oracle in Delphi. And the Oracle 
told him that he must wander for his sin, till the wild 
beasts should feast him as their guest. So he went on in 
hunger and sorrow for many a weary day, till he saw a 
pack of wolves. The wolves were tearing a sheep; but 
when they saw Athamas they fled, and left the sheep for 
him, and he ate of it; and then he knew that the oracle 
was fulfilled at last. So he wandered no more; but 
settled, and built a town, and became a king again. 

But the ram carried the two children far away over 
land and sea, till he came to the Thracian Chersonese, 
and there Helle fell into the sea. So those narrow straits 
are called “ Hellespont,” after her; and they bear that 
name until this day. 

Then the ram flew on with Phrixus to the northeast 
across the sea which we call the Black Sea now; but the 
Hellenes called it Euxine. And at last, they say, he 
stopped at Colchis, on the steep Circassian coast; and 
there Phrixus married Chalchiope, the daughter of Aietes 


230 Myths Every Child Should Know 

the king; and offered the ram in sacrifice; and Aietes 
nailed the ram’s fleece to a beech, in the grove of Ares the 
war god. 

And after awhile Phrixus died, and was buried, but his 
spirit had no rest; for he was buried far from his native 
land, and the pleasant hills of Hellas. So he came in 
dreams to the heroes of the Minuai, and called sadly by 
their beds: “Come and set my spirit free, that I may go 
home to my fathers and to my kinsfolk, and the pleasant 
Minuan land.” 

And they asked: “How shall we set your spirit free?” 

“You must sail over the sea to Colchis, and bring home 
the golden fleece; and then my spirit will come back with 
it, and I shall sleep with my fathers and have rest.” 

He came thus, and called to them often, but when they 
woke they looked at each other, and said: “Who dare 
sail to Colchis, or bring home the golden fleece ? ” And 
in all the country none was brave enough to try it; for 
the man and the time were not come. 

Phrixus had a cousin called iFson, who was king in 
Iolcos by the sea. There he ruled over the rich Minuan 
heroes, as Athamas his uncle ruled in Bceotia; and like 
Athamas, he was an unhappy man. For he had a step- 
brother named Pelias, of whom some said that he was a 
nymph’s son, and there were dark and sad tales about his 
birth. When he was a babe he was cast out on the 
mountains, and a wild mare came by and kicked him. 
But a shepherd passing found the baby, with its face all 
blackened by the blow; and took him home, and called 
him Pelias, because his face was bruised and black. And 
he grew up fierce and lawless, and did many a fearful 
deed; and at last he drove out iEson his stepbrother, 
and then his own brother Neleus, and took the kingdom 


The Argonauts 231 

to himself, and ruled over the rich Minuan heroes, in 
Iolcos by the sea. 

And iEson, when he was driven out, went sadly away 
out of the town, leading his little son by the hand; and he 
said to himself, “I must hide the child in the mountains; 
or Pelias will surely kill him, because he is the heir.” 

So he went up from the sea across the valley, through 
the vineyards and the olive groves, and across the torrent 
of Anauros, toward Pelion the ancient mountain, whose 
brows are white with snow. 

He went up and up into the mountain over marsh, 
and crag, and down, till the boy was tired and footsore, 
and .Eson had to bear him in his arms, till he came to the 
mouth of a lonely cave, at the foot of a mighty cliff. 

Above the cliff the snow wreaths hung, dripping and 
cracking in the sun. But at its foot around the cave’s 
mouth grew all fair flowers and herbs, as if in a garden, 
ranged in order, each sort by itself. There they grew 
gayly in the sunshine, and the spray of the torrent from 
above; while from the cave came the sound of music, and 
a man’s voice singing to the harp. 

Then ^Eson put down the lad, and whispered: 

“Fear not, but go in, and whomsoever you shall find, 
lay your hands upon his knees, and say, ‘In the name of 
Zeus the father of gods and men, I am your guest from 
this day forth.’” 

Then the lad went in without trembling, for he, too, 
was a hero’s son; but when he was within, he stopped in 
wonder, to listen to that magic song. 

And there he saw the singer lying upon bear skins and 
fragrant boughs; Cheiron, the ancient centaur, the wisest 
of all things beneath the sky. Down to the waist he was 
a man; but below he was a noble horse; his white hair 


232 Myths Every Child Should Know 

rolled down over his broad shoulders, and his white 
beard over his broad brown chest; and his eyes were 
wise and mild, and his forehead like a mountain wall. 

And in his hands he held a harp of gold, and struck 
it with a golden key; and as he struck, he sang till his 
eyes glittered, and filled all the cave with light. 

And he sang of the birth of Time, and of the heavens 
and the dancing stars; and of the ocean, and the ether, 
and the fire, and the shaping of the wondrous earth. 
And he sang of the treasures of the hills, and the hidden 
jewels of the mine, and the veins of fire and metal, and 
the virtues of all healing herbs, and of the speech of birds, 
and of prophecy, and of hidden things to come. 

Then he sang of health, and strength, and manhood, 
and a valiant heart; and of music, and hunting, and 
wrestling, and all the games which heroes love; and of 
travel, and wars, and sieges, and a noble death in fight; 
and then he sang of peace and plenty, and of equal 
justice in the land; and as he sang, the boy listened wide 
eyed, and forgot his errand in the song. 

And at the last old Cheiron was silent, and called the 
lad with a soft voice. 

And the lad ran trembling to him, and would have 
laid his hands upon his knees; but Cheiron smiled, and 
said, “Call hither your father ^Eson, for I know you, and 
all that has befallen, and saw you both afar in the valley, 
even before you left the town.” 

Then ^Eson came in sadly, and Cheiron asked him, 
“Why came you not yourself to me, y£son the ^Eolid?” 

And JSson said: 

“I thought, Cheiron will pity the lad if he sees him 
come alone; and I wished to try whether he was fearless, 
and dare venture like a hero’s son. But now I entreat 


The Argonauts 


233 


you by Father Zeus, let the boy be your guest till better 
times, and train him among the sons of the heroes, that 
he may avenge his father’s house.” 

Then Cheiron smiled, and drew the lad to him, and 
laid his hand upon his golden locks, and said, “Are you 
afraid of my horse’s hoofs, fair boy, or will you be my 
pupil from this day?” 

“I would gladly have horse’s hoofs like you, if I could 
sing such songs as yours.” 

And Cheiron laughed, and said, “Sit here by me till 
sundown, when your playfellows will come home, and 
you shall learn like them to be a king, worthy to rule over 
gallant men.” 

Then he turned to ALson, and said, “ Go back in peace, 
and bend before the storm like a prudent man. This 
boy shall not cross the Anauros again, till he has become 
a glory to you and to the house of Aeolus.” 

And iEson wept over his son and went away; but the 
boy did not weep, so full was his fancy of that strange 
cave, and the Centaur, and his song, and the playfellows 
whom he was to see. 

Then Cheiron put the lyre into his hands, and taught 
him how to play it, till the sun sank low behind the 
cliff, and a shout was heard outside. 

And then in came the sons of the heroes, Aeneas, and 
Heracles, and Peleus, and many another mighty name. 

And great Cheiron leapt up joyfully, and his hoofs 
made the cave resound, as they shouted, “Come out, 
Father Cheiron; come out and see our game.” And one 
cried, “I have killed two deer,” and another, “I took a 
wildcat among the crags”; and Heracles dragged a wild 
goat after him by its horns, for he was as huge as a 
mountain crag; and Caeneus carried a bear cub under 


234 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


each arm, and laughed when they scratched and bit; for 
neither tooth nor steel could wound him. 

And Cheiron praised them all, each according to his 
deserts. 

Only one walked apart and silent, Asclepius, the too- 
wise child, with his bosom full of herbs and flowers, and 
round his wrist a spotted snake; he came with downcast 
eyes to Cheiron, and whispered how he had watched the 
snake cast his old skin, and grow young again before his 
eyes, and how he had gone down into a village in the 
vale, and cured a dying man with a herb which he had 
seen a sick goat eat. 

And Cheiron smiled, and said: “To each Athend and 
Apollo give some gift, and each is worthy in his place ; but 
to this child they have given an honour beyond all 
honours, to cure while others kill.” 

Then the lads brought in wood, and split it, and 
lighted a blazing fire; and others skinned the deer and 
quartered them, and set them to roast before the fire; 
and while the venison was cooking they bathed in the 
snow torrent, and washed away the dust and sweat. 

And then all ate till they could eat no more (for they 
had tasted nothing since the dawn), and drank of the 
clear spring water, for wine is not fit for growing lads. 
And when the remnants were put away, they all lay 
down upon the skins and leaves about the fire, and each 
took the lyre in turn, and sang and played with all his 
heart. 

And after a while they all went out to a plot of grass 
at the cave’s mouth, and there they boxed, and ran, and 
wrestled, and laughed till the stones fell from the cliffs. 

Then Cheiron took his lyre, and all the lads joined 
hands; and as he played, they danced to his measure, in 


The Argonauts 


235 


and out, and round and round. There they danced hand 
in hand, till the night fell over land and sea, while the 
black glen shone with their broad white limbs, and the 
gleam of their golden hair. 

And the lad danced with them, delighted, and then 
slept a wholesome sleep, upon fragrant leaves of bay, and 
myrtle, and marjoram, and flowers of thyme; and rose 
at the dawn, and bathed in the torrent, and became a 
schoolfellow to the heroes’ sons, and forgot Iolcos, and his 
father, and all his former life. But he grew strong, and 
brave and cunning, upon the pleasant downs of Pelion, 
in the keen hungry mountain air. And he learnt to 
wrestle, and to box, and to hunt, and to play upon the 
harp; and next he learnt to ride, for old Cheiron used 
to mount him on his back; and he learnt the virtues of all 
herbs, and how to cure all wounds; and Cheiron called 
him Jason the healer, and that is his name until this day. 


PART II 

How Jason Lost His Sandal in AnauroS 

t And ten years came and went, and Jason was grown 
to be a mighty man. Some of his fellows were gone, and 
some were growing up by his side. Asclepius was gone 
into Peloponnese, to work his wondrous cures on men; 
and some say he used to raise the dead to life. And 
Heracles was gone to Thebes, to fulfil those famous 
labours which have become a proverb among men. 
And Peleus had married a sea nymph, and his wedding 
is famous to this day. And ^Eneas was gone home to 
Troy, and many a noble tale you will read of him, and 


236 Myths Every Child Should Know 

of all the other gallant heroes, the scholars of Cheiron 
the just. And it happened on a day that Jason stood on 
the mountain, and looked north and south and east and 
west; and Cheiron stood by him and watched him, for 
he knew that the time was come. 

And Jason looked and saw the plains of Thessaly, 
where the Lapithai breed their horses; and the lake of 
Boibe, and the stream which runs northward to Peneus 
and Tempe; and he looked north, and saw the mountain 
wall which guards the Magnesian shore; Olympus, the 
seat of the Immortals, and Ossa, and Pelion, where he 
stood. Then he looked east and saw the bright blue 
sea, which stretched away forever toward the dawn. 
Then he looked south, and saw a pleasant land, with 
white- walled towns and farms, nestling along the shore 
of a land-locked bay, while the smoke rose blue among 
the trees; and he knew it for the bay of Pagasai, and the 
rich lowlands of Haemonia, and Iolcos by the sea. 

Then he sighed, and asked: “Is it true what the 
heroes tell me, that I am heir of that fair land ? ” 

“And what good would it be to you, Jason, if you were 
heir of that fair land?” 

“I would take it and keep it.” 

“A strong man has taken it and kept it long. Are you 
stronger than Pelias the terrible?” 

“I can try my strength with his,” said Jason. But 
Cheiron sighed and said: 

“You have many a danger to go through before you 
rule in Iolcos by the sea; many a danger, and many a 
woe; and strange troubles in strange lands, such as man 
never saw before.” 

“The happier I,” said Jason, “to see what man never 
saw before.” 


The Argonauts 


237 




And Cheiron sighed again, and said: “The eaglet 
must leave the nest when it is fledged. Will you go to 
Iolcos by the sea? Then promise me two things before 
you go.” 

Jason promised, and Cheiron answered: “Speak 
harshly to no soul whom you may meet, and stand by the 
word which you shall speak.” 

Jason wondered why Cheiron asked this of him; but 
he knew that the Centaur was a prophet, and saw things 
long before they came. So he promised, and leapt down 
the mountain, to take his fortune like a man. 

He went down through the arbutus thickets, and across 
the downs of thyme, till he came to the vineyard walls, and 
the pomegranates and the olives in the glen ; and among the 
olives roared Anauros, all foaming with a summer flood. 

And on the bank of Anauros sat a woman, all wrinkled 

I gray, and old; her head shook palsied on her breast, and 
her hands shook palsied on her knees; and when she 
saw Jason, she spoke whining: “Who will carry me 
across the flood?” 

Jason was bold and hasty, and was just going to leap 
into the flood; and yet he thought twice before he leapt, 
so loud roared the torrent down, all brown from the 
mountain rains, and silver veined with melting snow; 
while underneath he could hear the boulders rumbling 
like the tramp of horsemen or the roll of wheels, as they 
ground along the narrow channel, and shook the rocks on 
which he stood. 

But the old woman whined all the more: “I am 
weak and old, fair youth. For Hera’s sake, carry me 
over the torrent.” 

And Jason was going to answer her scornfully, when 
Cheiron’s words came to his mind. 


238 Myths Every Child Should Know 

So he said: “For Hera’s sake, the Queen of the 
Immortals on Olympus, I will carry you over the torrent, 
unless we both are drowned midway.” 

Then the old dame leapt upon his back, as nimbly as 
a goat; and Jason staggered in, wondering; and the first 
step was up to his knees. 

The first step was up to his knees, and the second step 
was up to his waist; and the stones rolled about his feet, 
and his feet slipped about the stones; so he went on 
staggering and panting, while the old woman cried from 
off his back: 

“Fool, you have wet my mantle! Do you make game 
of poor old souls like me?” 

Jason had half a mind to drop her, and let her get 
through the torrent by herself; but Cheiron’s words were 
in his mind, and he said only: “Patience, mother; the 
best horse may stumble some day.” 

At last he staggered to the shore, and set her down 
upon the bank; and a strong man he needed to have been, 
or that wild water he never would have crossed. 

He lay panting awhile upon the bank, and then leapt 
up to go upon his journey; but he cast one look at the old 
woman, for he thought, “She should thank me once 
at least.” 

And as he looked, she grew fairer than all women, 
and taller than all men on earth; and her garments shone 
like the summer sea, and her jewels like the stars of 
heaven; and over her forehead was a veil, woven of the 
golden clouds of sunset; and through the veil she looked 
down on him, with great soft heifer’s eyes; with great 
eyes, mild and awful, which filled all the glen with light. 

And Jason fell upon his knees, and hid his face between 
his hands. 


The Argonauts 


239 


And she spoke: “I am the Queen of Olympus, Hera 
the wife of Zeus. As thou hast done to me, so will I do 
to thee. Call on me in the hour of need, and try if the 
Immortals can forget.” 

And when Jason looked up, she rose from off the earth, 
like a pillar of tall white cloud, and floated away across 
the mountain peaks, toward Olympus the holy hill. 

Then a great fear fell on Jason; but after a while he 
grew light of heart; and he blessed old Cheiron, and 
said: “ Surely the Centaur is a prophet, and guessed 
what would come to pass, when he bade me speak harshly 
to no soul whom I might meet.” 

Then he went down toward Iolcos, and as he walked, 
he found that he had lost one of his sandals in the flood. 

And as he went through the streets, the people came 
out to look at him, so tall and fair was he; but some of 
the elders whispered together; and at last one of them 
stopped Jason, and called to him: “Fair lad, who are 
you, and whence come you; and what is your errand in 
the town?” 

“My name, good father, is Jason, and I come from 
Pelion up above; and my errand is to Pelias your king; 
tell me then where his palace is.” 

But the old man started, and grew pale, and said, 
“Do you not know the oracle, my son, that you go so 
boldly through the town, with but one sandal on?” 

“I am a stranger here, and know of no oracle; but 
what of my one sandal? I lost the other in Anauros, 
while I was struggling with the flood.” 

Then the old man looked back to his companions; and 
one sighed and another smiled; at last he said: “I will 
tell you, lest you rush upon your ruin unawares. The 
oracle in Delphi has said, that a man wearing one sandal 


240 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


should take the kingdom from Pelias, and keep it for 
himself. Therefore beware how you go up to his palace, 
for he is the fiercest and most cunning of all kings.” 

Then Jason laughed a great laugh, like a war horse 
in his pride : “ Good news, good father, both for you and 
me. For that very end I came into the town.” 

Then he strode on toward the palace of Pelias, while 
all the people wondered at his bearing. 

And he stood in the doorway and cried, “Come out, 
come out, Pelias the valiant, and fight for your kingdom 
like a man.” 

Pelias came out wondering, and “Who are you, bold 
youth?” he cried. 

“I am Jason, the son of A£son, the heir of all this land.” 

Then Pelias lifted up his hands and eyes, and wept, 
or seemed to weep; and blessed the heavens which had 
brought his nephew to him, never to leave him more. 
“For,” said he, “I have but three daughters, and no 
son to be my heir. You shall be my heir then, and rule 
the kingdom after me, and marry whichsoever of my 
daughters you shall choose; though a sad kingdom you 
will find it, and whosoever rules it a miserable man. 
But come in, come in, and feast.” 

So he drew Jason in, whether he would or not, and 
spoke to him so lovingly and feasted him so well, that 
Jason’s anger passed; and after supper his three cousins 
came into the hall, and Jason thought that he should 
like well enough to have one of them for his wife. 

But at last he said to Pelias, “Why do you look so sad, 
my uncle ? And what did you mean just now, when you 
said that this was a doleful kingdom, and its ruler a 
miserable man?” 

Then Pelias sighed heavily again and again and again, 


The Argonauts 


24 1 


like a man who had to tell some dreadful story and was 
afraid to begin; but at last: 

“For seven long years and more have I never known a 
quiet night; and no more will he who comes after me, till 
the golden fleece be brought home. ,, 

Then he told Jason the story of Phrixus, and of the 
golden fleece; and told him, too, which was a lie, that 
Phrixus ’s spirit tormented him, calling to him day and 
night. And his daughters came, and told the same tale 
(for their father had taught them their parts) and wept, 
and said, “Oh, who will bring home the golden fleece, 
that our uncle’s spirit may have rest; and that we may 
have rest also, whom he never lets sleep in peace ? ” 

Jason sat awhile, sad and silent; for he had often heard 
of that golden fleece ; but he looked on it as a thing hope- 
less and impossible for any mortal man to win it. 

But when Pelias saw him silent, he began to talk of 
other things, and courted Jason more and more, speaking 
to him as if he was certain to be his heir, and asking his 
advice about the kingdom; till Jason who was young and 
simple, could not help saying to himself, “Surely he is 
not the dark man whom people call him. Yet why did 
he drive my father out?” And he asked Pelias boldly, 
“Men say that you are terrible, and a man of blood; 
but I find you a kind and hospitable man; and as you 
are to me, so will I be to you. Yet why did you drive 
my father out?” 

Pelias smiled and sighed: “Men have slandered me 
in that, as in all things. Your father was growing old 
and weary, and he gave the kingdom up to me of his 
own will. You shall see him to-morrow, and ask him; 
and he will tell you the same.” 

Jason’s heart leapt in him, when he heard that he 


242 Myths Every Child Should Know 

was to see his father; and he believed all that Pelias said, 
forgetting that his father might not dare to tell the truth. 

“One thing more there is,” said Pelias, “on which 
I need your advice; for though you are young, I see in you 
a wisdom beyond your years. There is one neighbour of 
mine, whom I dread more than all men on earth. I am 
stronger than he now, and can command him; but I know 
that if he stay among us, he will work my ruin in the end. 
Can you give me a plan, Jason, by which I can rid myself 
of that man?” 

After awhile, Jason answered, half laughing, “Were 
I you, I would send him to fetch that same golden fleece ; 
for if he once set forth after it you would never be troubled 
with him more.” 

And at that a bitter smile came across Pelias’s lips, and 
a flash of wicked joy into his eyes; and Jason saw it, and 
started; and over his mind came the warning of the old 
man, and his own one sandal, and the oracle, and he saw 
that he was taken in a trap. 

But Pelias only answered gently, “My son, he shall be 
sent forthwith.” 

“You mean me?” cried Jason, starting up, “because 
I came here with one sandal?” And he lifted his fist 
angrily, while Pelias stood up to him like a wolf at bay; 
and whether of the two was the stronger and the fiercer, 
it would be hard to tell. 

But after a moment Pelias spoke gently, “Why then so 
rash, my son? You, and not I, have said what is said; 
why blame me for what I have not done ? Had you bid 
me love the man of whom I spoke, and make him my 
son-in-law and heir, I would have obeyed you; and what 
if I obey you now, and send the man to win himself 
immortal fame? I have not harmed you, or him. One 


The Argonauts 


243 


thing at least I know, that he will go, and that gladly; 
for he has a hero’s heart within him; loving glory, and 
scorning to break the word which he has given.” 

Jason saw that he was entrapped; but his second 
promise to Cheiron came into his mind, and he thought, 
“What if the Centaur were a prophet in that also, and 
meant that I should win the fleece!” Then he cried 
aloud: 

“You have well spoken, cunning uncle of mine! 
I love glory, and I dare keep to my word. I will go and 
fetch this golden fleece. Promise me but this in return, 
and keep your word as I keep mine. Treat my father 
lovingly while I am gone, for the sake of the all-seeing 
Zeus; and give me up the kingdom for my own, on the 
day that I bring back the golden fleece.” 

Then Pelias looked at him and almost loved him, in 
the midst of all his hate; and said, “I promise, and I will 
perform. It will be no shame to give up my kingdom 
to the man who wins that fleece.” 

Then they swore a great oath between them; and after- 
ward both went in, and lay down to sleep. 

But Jason could not sleep, for thinking of his mighty 
oath, and how he was to fulfil it, all alone, and without 
wealth or friends. So he tossed a long time upon his 
bed, and thought of this plan and of that; and sometimes 
Phrixus seemed to call him, in a thin voice, faint and 
low, as if it came from far across the sea, “Let me come 
home to my fathers and have rest.” And sometimes he 
seemed to see the eyes of Hera, and to hear her words 
again, “Call on me in the hour of need, and see if the 
Immortals can forget.” 

And on the morrow he went to Pelias, and said, 
“ Give me a victim, that I may sacrifice to Hera.” So he 


244 Myths Every Child Should Know 

went up, and offered his sacrifice; and as he stood by 
the altar, Hera sent a thought into his mind; and he 
went back to Pelias, and said: 

“If you are indeed in earnest, give me two heralds, 
that they may go round to all the princes of the Minuai 
who were pupils of the Centaur with me, that we may 
fit out a ship together, and take what shall befall.” 

At that Pelias praised his wisdom, and hastened to 
send the heralds out; for he said in his heart: “Let all 
the princes go with him, and like him, never return; 
for so I shall be lord of all the Minuai, and the greatest 
king in Hellas. ,, 


PART III 

How They Built the Ship Argo in Iolcos 

So the heralds went out, and cried to all the heroes of 
the Minuai, “Who dare come to the adventure of the 
golden fleece?” 

And Hera stirred the hearts of all the princes, and they 
came from all their valleys to the yellow sands of Pagasai. 
And first came Heracles the mighty, with his lion’s skin 
and club, and behind him Hylas his young squire, who 
bore his arrows and his bow; and Tiphys, the skilful 
steersman; and Butes, the fairest of all men; and Castor 
and Polydeuces the twins, the sons of the magic swan; 
and Caineus, the strongest of mortals, whom the Centaurs 
tried in vain to kill, and overwhelmed him with trunks 
of pine trees, but even so he would not die; and thither 
came Zetes and Calais, the winged sons of the north 
wind; and Peleus, the father of Achilles, whose bride 
was silver-footed Thetis the goddess of the sea. And 


The Argonauts 


245 


thither came Telamon and Oileus, the fathers of the 
two Aiantes, who fought upon the plains of Troy; and 
Mopsus, the wise soothsayer, who knew the speech of 
birds; and Idmon, to whom Phoebus gave a tongue to 
prophesy of things to come; and Ancaios, who could 
read the stars, and knew all the circles of the heavens; 
and Argus, the famed shipbuilder, and many a hero 
more, in helmets of brass and gold with tall dyed horse- 
hair crests, and embroidered shirts of linen beneath their 
coats of mail, and greaves of polished tin to guard their 
knees in fight; with each man his shield upon his shoulder, 
of many a fold of tough bull’s hide, and his sword of 
tempered bronze in his silver-studded belt, and in his 
right hand a pair of lances, of the heavy white-ash stave. 

So they came down to Iolcos, and all the city came out 
to meet them, and were never tired with looking at their 
height, and their beauty, and their gallant bearing, and 
the glitter of their inlaid arms. And some said, “ Never 
was such a gathering of the heroes since the Hellenes 
conquered the land.” But the women sighed over 
them, and whispered, “Alas! they are all going to the 
death.” 

Then they felled the pines on Pelion, and shaped 
them with the axe, and Argus taught them to build a 
galley, the first long ship which ever sailed the seas. 
They pierced her for fifty oars, an oar for each hero of 
the crew, and pitched her with coal-black pitch, and 
painted her bows with vermilion; and they named her 
Argo after Argus, and worked at her all day long. And 
at night Pelias feasted them like a king, and they slept in 
his palace porch. 

But Jason went away to the northward, and into the 
land of Thrace, till he found Orpheus, the prince of 


246 Myths Every Child Should Know 

minstrels, where he dwelt in his cave under Rhodope, 
among the savage Cicon tribes. And he asked him: 
“Will you leave your mountains, Orpheus, my fellow 
scholar in old times, and cross Strymon once more with 
me, to sail with the heroes of the Minuai, and bring 
home the golden fleece, and charm for us all men and all 
monsters with your magic harp and song ? ” 

Then Orpheus sighed: “Have I not had enough of 
toil and of weary wandering far and wide, since I lived in 
Cheiron’s cave, above Iolcos by the sea? In vain is the 
skill and the voice which my goddess mother gave me; 
in vain have I sung and laboured; in vain I went down to 
the dead, and charmed all the kings of Hades, to win 
back Eurydice my bride. For I won her, my beloved, 
and lost her again the same day, and wandered away in 
my madness, even to Egypt and the Libyan sands, and 
the isles of all the seas, driven on by the terrible gadfly, 
while I charmed in vain the hearts of men, and the 
savage forest beasts, and the trees, and the lifeless 
stones, with my magic harp and song, giving rest, but 
finding none. But at last Calliope, my mother, de- 
livered me, and brought me home in peace; and I dwell 
here in the cave alone, among the savage Cicon tribes, 
softening their wild hearts with music and the gentle 
laws of Zeus. And now I must go out again, to the 
ends of all the earth, far away into the misty darkness, to 
the last wave of the Eastern Sea. But what is doomed 
must be, and a friend’s demand obeyed; for prayers are 
the daughters of Zeus, and who honours them honours 
him.” 

Then Orpheus rose up sighing, and took his harp, and 
went over Strymon. And he led Jason to the southwest, 
up the banks of Haliacmon and over the spurs of Pindus, 


The Argonauts 


247 


to Dodona the town of Zeus, where it stood by the side of 
the sacred lake, and the fountain which breathed out 
fire, in the darkness of the ancient oak wood, beneath 
the mountain of the hundred springs. And he led him 
to the holy oak, where the black dove settled in old times, 
and was changed into the priestess of Zeus, and gave 
oracles to all nations round. And he bade him cut down 
a bough, and sacrifice to Hera and to Zeus; and they 
took the bough and came to Iolcos, and nailed it to 
the beak head of the ship. 

And at last the ship was finished, and they tried to 
launch her down the beach; but she was too heavy for 
them to move her, and her keel sank deep in the sand. 
Then all the heroes looked at each other blushing; 
but Jason spoke, and said, “Let us ask the magic bough; 
perhaps it can help us in our need.” 

Then a voice came from the bough, and Jason heard 
the words it said, and bade Orpheus play upon the harp, 
while the heroes waited round, holding the pine-trunk 
rollers, to help her toward the sea. 

Then Orpheus took his harp, and began his magic 
song: “How sweet it is to ride upon the surges, and to 
leap from wave to wave, while the wind sings cheerful 
in the cordage, and the oars flash fast among the foam! 
How sweet it is to roam across the ocean, and see new 
towns and wondrous lands, and to come home laden 
with treasure, and to win undying fame!” 

And the good ship Argo heard him, and longed to be 
away and out at sea; till she stirred in every timber, and 
heaved from stem to stern, and leapt up from the sand 
upon the rollers, and plunged onward like a gallant horse; 
and the heroes fed her path with pine trunks, till she 
rushed into the whispering sea. 


248 Myths Every Child Should Know 

Then they stored her well with food and water, and 
pulled the ladder up on board, and settled themselves 
each man to his oar, and kept time to Orpheus’s harp; 
and away across the bay they rowed southward, while 
the people lined the cliffs; and the women wept while the 
men shouted, at the starting of that gallant crew. 


PART IV 

How the Argonauts Sailed to Colchis 

And what happened next, my children, whether it be 
true or not, stands written in ancient songs, which you 
shall read for yourselves some day. And grand old 
songs they are, written in grand old rolling verse; and 
they call them the Songs of Orpheus, or the Orphics, to 
this day. And they tell how the heroes came to Aphetai, 
across the bay, and waited for the southwest wind, and 
chose themselves a captain from their crew: and how all 
called for Heracles, because he was the strongest and 
most huge; but Heracles refused, and called for Jason, 
because he was the wisest of them all. So Jason was 
chosen captain: and Orpheus heaped* a pile of wood 
and slew a bull, and offered it to Hera, and called all the 
heroes to stand round, each man’s head crowned with 
olive, and to strike their swords into the bull. Then he 
filled a golden goblet with the bull’s blood, and with 
wheaten flour, and honey, and wine, and the bitter salt 
sea water, and bade the heroes taste. So each tasted the 
goblet, and passed it round, and vowed an awful vow; and 
they vowed before the sun, and the night, and the blue- 
haired sea who shakes the land, to stand by Jason faith- 


The Argonauts 


249 


fully, in the adventure of the golden fleece; and whosoever 
shrank back, or disobeyed, or turned traitor to his vow, 
then justice should witness against him, and the Erinnes 
who track guilty men. 

Then Jason lighted the pile, and burnt the carcass of 
the bull; and they went to their ship and sailed eastward, 
like men who have a work to do; and the place from 
which they went was called Aphetai, the sailing place, 
from that day forth. Three thousand years ago and 
more they sailed away, into the unknown Eastern seas; and 
great nations have come and gone since then, and many 
a storm has swept the earth; and many a mighty arma- 
ment, to which Argo would be but one small boat, have 
sailed those waters since; yet the fame of that small Argo 
lives forever, and her name is become a proverb among 
men. 

So they sailed past the Isle of Sciathos, with the Cape 
of Sepius on their left, and turned to the northward 
toward Pelion, up the long Magnesian shore. On their 
right hand was the open sea, and on their left old Pelion 
rose, while the clouds crawled round his dark pine forests, 
and his caps of summer snow. And their hearts yearned 
for the dear old mountain, as they thought of pleasant 
days gone by, and of the sports of their boyhood, and 
their hunting, and their schooling in the cave beneath 
the cliff. And at last Peleus spoke: “Let us land here, 
friends, and climb the dear old hill once more. We 
are going on a fearful journey: who knows if we shall see 
Pelion again ? Let us go up to Cheiron our master, and 
ask his blessing ere we start. And I have a boy, too, 
with him, whom he trains as he trained me once, the son 
whom Thetis brought me, the silver-footed lady of the 
sea, whom I caught in the cave, and tamed her though 


250 Myths Every Child Should Know 

she changed her shape seven times. For she changed, as 
I held her, into water, and to vapour, and to burning 
flame, and to a rock, and to a black-maned lion, and to a 
tall and stately tree. But I held her and held her ever 
till she took her own shape again, and led her to my 
father’s house, and won her for my bride. And all the 
rulers of Olympus came to our wedding, and the heavens 
and the earth rejoiced together, when an immortal 
wedded mortal man. And now let me see my son; for 
it is not often I shall see him upon earth; famous he will 
be, but short lived, and die in the flower of youth.” 

So Tiphys, the helmsman, steered them to the shore 
under the crags of Pelion; and they went up through the 
the dark pine forests toward the Centaur’s cave. 

And they came into the misty hall, beneath the snow- 
crowned crag; and saw the great Centaur lying with his 
huge limbs spread upon the rock; and beside him stood 
Achilles, the child whom no steel could wound, and 
played upon his harp right sweetly, while Cheiron watched 
and smiled. 

Then Cheiron leapt up and welcomed them, and kissed 
them every one, and set a feast before them, of swine’s 
flesh, and venison, and good wine; and young Achilles 
served them, and carried the golden goblet round. 
And after supper all the heroes clapped their hands, and 
called on Orpheus to sing; but he refused, and said, 
“How can I, who am the younger, sing before our 
ancient host?” So they caUed on Cheiron to sing, and 
AchiUes brought him his harp ; and he began a wondrous 
song; a famous story of old time, of the fight between 
Centaurs and the Lapithai, which you may still see carved 
in stone. He sang how his brothers came to ruin by 
their folly, when they were mad with wine; and how they 


The Argonauts 


251 


and the heroes fought, with fists, and teeth, and the 
goblets from which they drank; and how they tore up 
the pine trees in their fury, and hurled great crags of 
stone, while the mountains thundered with the battle, 
and the land was wasted far and wide; till the Lapithai 
drove them from their home in the rich Thessalian plains 
to the lonely glens of Pindus, leaving Cheiron all alone. 
And the heroes praised his song right heartily; for some 
of them had helped in that great fight. 

Then Orpheus took the lyre, and sang of Chaos, and 
the making of the wondrous World, and how all things 
sprang from Love, who could not live alone in the 
Abyss. And as he sang, his voice rose from the cave, 
above the crags, and through the tree tops, and the glens 
of oak and pine. And the trees bowed their heads 
when they heard it, and the gray rocks cracked and rang, 
and the forest beasts crept near to listen, and the birds 
forsook their nests and hovered round. And old Cheiron 
clapt his hands together, and beat his hoofs upon the 
ground, for wonder at that magic song. 

Then Peleus kissed his boy, and wept over him, and 
they went down to the ship ; and Cheiron came down with 
them, weeping, and kissed them one by one, and blest 
them, and promised to them great renown. And the 
heroes wept when they left him, till their great hearts 
could weep no more ; for he was kind and just and pious, 
and wiser than all beasts and men. Then he went up to 
a cliff, and prayed for them, that they might come home 
safe and well; while the heroes rowed away, and watched 
him standing on his cliff above the sea, with his great 
hands raised toward heaven, and his white locks waving 
in the wind; and they strained their eyes to watch him to 
the last, for they felt that they should look on him no more. 


252 Myths Every Child Should Know 

So they rowed on over the long swell of the sea, past 
Olympus, the seat of the immortals, and past the wooded 
bays of Athos, and Samothrace, the sacred isle; and they 
came past Lemnos to the Hellespont, and through the 
narrow strait of Abydos, and so on into the Propontis, 
which we call Marmora now. And there they met with 
Cyzicus, ruling in Asia over the Dolions, who, the songs 
say, was the son of ^Eneas, of whom you will hear many 
a tale some day. For Homer tells us how he fought at 
Troy; and Virgil how he sailed away and founded Rome; 
and men believed until late years that from him sprang 
the old British kings. Now Cyzicus, the songs say, 
welcomed the heroes; for his father had been one of 
Cheiron’s scholars; so he welcomed them, and feasted 
them, and stored their ship with corn and wine, and 
cloaks and rugs, the songs say, and shirts, of which no 
doubt they stood in need. 

But at night, while they lay sleeping, came down on 
them terrible men, who lived with the bears in the moun- 
tains, like Titans or giants in shape; for each of them 
had six arms, and they fought with young firs and pines. 
But Heracles killed them all before morn with his deadly 
poisoned arrows; but among them, in the darkness, he 
slew Cyzicus the kindly prince. 

Then they got to their ship and to their oars, and 
Tiphys bade them cast off the hawsers, and go to sea. 
But as he spoke a whirlwind came, and spun the Argo 
round, and twisted the hawsers together, so that no man 
could loose them. Then Tiphys dropped the rudder 
from his hand, and cried, “This comes from the Gods 
above.” But Jason went forward, and asked counsel of 
the magic bough. 

Then the magic bough spoke and answered: “This is 


The Argonauts 


253 


because you have slain Cyzicus your friend. You must 
appease his soul, or you will never leave this shore. ,, 

Jason went back sadly, and told the heroes what he 
had heard. And they leapt on shore, and searched till 
dawn; and at dawn they found the body, all rolled in dust 
and blood, among the corpses of those monstrous beasts. 
And they wept over their kind host, and laid him on a 
fair bed, and heaped a huge mound over him, and offered 
black sheep at his tomb, and Orpheus sang a magic 
song to him, that his spirit might have rest. And then 
they held games at the tomb, after the custom of those 
times, and Jason gave prizes to each winner. To Ancaeus 
he gave a golden cup, for he wrestled best of all; and to 
Heracles a silver one, for he was the strongest of all; 
and to Castor, who rode best, a golden crest; and Poly- 
deuces the boxer had a rich carpet, and to Orpheus for 
his song, a sandal with golden wings. But Jason himself 
was the best of all the archers, and the Minuai crowned 
him with an olive crown ; and so, the songs say, the soul of 
good Cyzicus was appeased, and the heroes went on their 
way in peace. 

But when Cyzicus’s wife heard that he was dead, she 
died likewise of grief; and her tears became a fountain 
of clear water, which flows the whole year round. 

Then they rowed away, the songs say, along the Mysian 
shore, and past the mouth of Rhindacus, till they found a 
pleasant bay, sheltered by the long ridges of Arganthus, 
and by high walls of basalt rock. And there they ran 
the ship ashore upon the yellow sand, and furled the sail, 
and took the mast down, and lashed it in its crutch. And 
next they let down the ladder, and went ashore to sport 
and rest. 

And there Heracles went away into the woods, bow in 


254 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


hand, to hunt wild deer; and Hylas the fair boy slipt away 
after him, and followed him by stealth, until he lost 
himself among the glens, and sat down weary to rest 
himself by the side of a lake; and there the water nymphs 
came up to look at him, and loved him, and carried him 
down under the lake to be their playfellow, forever happy 
and young. And Heracles sought for him in vain, shout- 
ing his name till all the mountains rang; but Hylas never 
heard him, far down under the sparkling lake. So while 
Heracles wandered searching for him, a fair breeze 
sprang up, and Heracles was nowhere to be found; and 
the Argo sailed away, and Heracles was left behind, and 
never saw the noble Phasian stream. 

Then the Minuai came to a doleful land, where Amycus 
the giant ruled, and cared nothing for the laws of Zeus, but 
challenged all strangers to box with him, and those 
whom he conquered he slew. But Polydeuces the 
boxer struck him a harder blow than he ever felt before, 
and slew him ; and the Minuai went on up the Bosphorus, 
till they came to the city of Phineus, the fierce Bithynian 
king; for Zetes and Calais bade Jason land there, because 
they had a work to do. 

And they went up from the shore toward the city, 
through forests white with snow ; and Phineus came out to 
meet them with a lean and woeful face, and said, “Wel- 
come, gallant heroes, to the land of bitter blasts, a land 
of cold and misery; yet I will feast you as best I can.” 
And he led them in, and set meat before them; but before 
they could put their hands to their mouths, down came 
two fearful monsters, the like of whom man never saw; 
for they had the faces and the hair of fair maidens, but 
the wings and claws of hawks; and they snatched the meat 
from off the table, and flew shrieking out above the roofs. 


The Argonauts 


255 

Then Phineus beat his breast and cried, “ These are 
the Harpies, whose names are the Whirlwind and the 
Swift, the daughters of Wonder and of the Amber nymph, 
and they rob us night and day. They carried off the 
daughters of Pandareus, whom all the Gods had blest; 
for Aphrodite fed them on Olympus with honey and 
milk and wine; and Hera gave them beauty and wisdom, 
and Athene skill in all the arts; but when they came to 
their wedding, the Harpies snatched them both away, 
and gave them to be slaves to the Erinnues, and live in 
horror all their days. And now they haunt me, and my 
people, and the Bosphorus, with fearful storms; and 
sweep away our food from off our tables, so that we 
starve in spite of all our wealth. ,, 

Then up rose Zetes and Calais, the winged sons of the 
North wind, and said, “Do you not know us, Phineus, 
and these wings which grow upon our backs ?” And 
Phineus hid his face in terror; but he answered not a 
word. 

“Because you have been a traitor, Phineus, the Harpies 
haunt you night and day. Where is Cleopatra our sister, 
your wife, whom you keep in prison ? and where are her 
two children, whom you blinded in your rage, at the bid- 
ding of an evil woman, and cast them out upon the rocks ? 
Swear to us that you will right our sister, and cast out that 
wicked woman; and then we will free you from your 
plague, and drive the whirlwind maidens from the south ; 
but if not, we will put out your eyes, as you put out the 
eyes of your own sons.” 

Then Phineus swore an oath to them, and drove out 
the wicked woman; and Jason took those two poor chil- 
dren, and cured their eyes with magic herbs. 

But Zetes and Calais rose up sadly, and said: “Fare- 


256 Myths Every Child Should Know 

well now, heroes all; farewell, our dear companions, with 
whom we played on Pelion in old times; for a fate is 
laid upon us, and our day is come at last, in which we may 
hunt the whirlwinds, over land and sea forever; and if we 
catch them they die, and if not, we die ourselves.” 

At that all the heroes wept; but the two young men 
sprang up, and aloft into the air after the Harpies, and 
the battle of the winds began. 

The heroes trembled in silence as they heard the shriek- 
ing of the blasts; while the palace rocked and all the city, 
and great stones were torn from the crags, and the forest 
pines were hurled eastward, north and south and east and 
west, and the Bosphorus boiled white with foam, and the 
clouds were dashed against the cliffs. 

But at last the battle ended, and the Harpies fled 
screaming toward the south, and the sons of the North 
wind rushed after them, and brought clear sunshine 
where they passed. For many a league they followed 
them, over all the isles of the Cyclades, and away to the 
southwest across Hellas, till they came to the Ionian 
Sea, and there they fell upon the Echinades, at the mouth 
of the Achelous ; and those isles were called the Whirlwind 
Isles for many a hundred years. But what became of 
Zetes and Calais I know not; for the heroes never saw 
them again; and some say that Heracles met them, and 
quarrelled with them, and slew them with his arrows; 
and some say that they fell down from weariness and the 
heat of the summer sun, and that the Sun god buried 
them among the Cyclades, in the pleasant Isle of Tenos; 
and for many hundred years their grave was shown there, 
and over it a pillar, which turned to every wind. But 
those dark storms and whirlwinds haunt the Bosphorus 
until this day. 


The Argonauts 


257 


But the Argonauts went eastward, and out into the 
open sea, which we now call the Black Sea, but it was 
called the Euxine then. No Hellen had ever crossed it, 
and all feared that dreadful sea, and its rocks, and 
shoals, and fogs, and bitter freezing storms; and they told 
strange stories of it, some false and some half true, how it 
stretched northward to the ends of the earth, and the 
sluggish Putrid Sea, and the everlasting night, and the 
regions of the dead. So the heroes trembled, for all their 
courage, as they came into that wild Black Sea, and saw 
it stretching out before them, without a shore, as far as 
eye could see. 

And first Orpheus spoke, and warned them: “We 
shall come now to the wandering blue rocks; my mother 
warned me of them, Calliope, the immortal muse.” 

And soon they saw the blue rocks shining, like spires 
and castles of gray glass, while an ice-cold wind blew from 
them, and chilled all the heroes’ hearts. And as they 
neared, they could see them heaving, as they rolled upon 
the long sea waves, crashing and grinding together, till the 
roar went up to heaven. The sea sprang up in spouts 
between them, and swept round them in white sheets of 
foam; but their heads swung nodding high in air, while 
the wind whistled shrill among the crags. 

The heroes’ hearts sank within them, and they lay 
upon their oars in fear; but Orpheus called to Tiphys 
the helmsman: “Between them we must pass; so look 
ahead for an opening, and be brave, for Hera is with us.” 
But Tiphys the cunning helmsman stood silent, clenching 
his teeth, till he saw a heron come flying mast high 
toward the rocks, and hover awhile before them, as if 
looking for a passage through. Then he cried, “Hera 
has sent us a pilot; let us follow the cunning bird.” 


258 Myths Every Child Should Know 

Then the heron flapped to and fro a moment, till he 
saw a hidden gap, and into it he rushed like an arrow, 
while the heroes watched what would befall. 

And the blue rocks clashed together as the bird fled 
swiftly through; but they struck but a feather from his 
tail, and then rebounded apart at the shock. 

Then Tiphys cheered the heroes, and they shouted; 
and the oars bent like withes beneath their strokes, as 
they rushed between those toppling ice crags, and the 
cold blue lips of death. And ere the rocks could meet 
again they had passed them, and were safe out in the open 
sea. 

And after that they sailed on wearily along the Asian 
coast, by the Black Cape and Thyneis, where the hot 
stream of Thymbris falls into the sea, and Sangarius, 
whose waters float on the Euxine, till they came to Wolf 
the river, and to Wolf the kindly king. And there died 
two brave heroes, Idmon and Tiphys the wise helmsman; 
one died of an evil sickness, and one a wild boar slew. 
So the heroes heaped a mound above them, and set upon 
it an oar on high, and left them there to sleep together, 
on the far-off Lycian shore. But Idas killed the boar, and 
avenged Tiphys; and Ancaios took the rudder and was 
helmsman, and steered them on toward the east. 

And they went on past Sinope, and many a mighty 
river’s mouth, and past many a barbarous tribe, and the 
cities of the Amazons, the warlike women of the East, 
till all night they heard the clank of anvils and the roar 
of furnace blasts, and the forge fires shone like sparks 
through the darkness, in the mountain glens aloft; for 
they were come to the shores of the Chalybes, the smiths 
who never tire, but serve Ares the cruel War god, forging 
weapons day and night. 


The Argonauts 


259 


And at day dawn they looked eastward, and midway 
between the sea and the sky they saw white snow peaks 
hanging glittering sharp and bright above the clouds. 
And they knew that they were come to Caucasus, at the 
end of all the earth; Caucasus the highest of all mountains, 
the father of the rivers of the East. On his peak lies 
chained the Titan, while a vulture tears his heart; and at 
his feet are piled dark forests round the magic Colchian 
land. 

And they rowed three days to the eastward, while 
Caucasus rose higher hour by hour, till they saw the dark 
stream of Phasis rushing headlong to the sea, and shining 
above the treetops, the golden roofs of King Aietes, the 
child of the sun. 

Then out spoke Ancaios the helmsman: “We are 
come to our goal at last; for there are the roofs of Aietes, 
and the woods where all poisons grow; but who can tell us 
where among them is hid the golden fleece? Many a 
toil must we bear ere we find it, and bring it home to 
Greece. ,, 

But Jason cheered the heroes, for his heart was high 
and bold; and he said: “I will go alone up to Aietes, 
though he be the child of the sun, and win him with soft 
words. Better so than to go altogether, and to come 
to blows at once.’ , But the Minuai would not stay 
behind, so they rowed boldly up the stream. 

And a dream came to Aietes, and filled his heart with 
fear. He thought he saw a shining star, which fell into 
his daughter’s lap; and that Medeia his daughter took it 
gladly, and carried it to the river side, and cast it in, and 
there the whirling river bore it down, and out into the 
Euxine Sea. 

Then he leapt up in fear, and bade his servants bring 


260 Myths Every Child Should Know 

his chariot, that he might go down to the riverside and 
appease the nymphs, and the heroes whose spirits haunt 
the bank. So he went down in his golden chariot, and 
his daughters by his side, Medeia the fair witch maiden, 
and Chalciope, who had been Phrixus’s wife, and behind 
him a crowd of servants and soldiers, for he was a rich 
and mighty prince. 

And as he drove down by the reedy river, he saw Argo 
sliding up beneath the bank, and many a hero in her, like 
immortals for beauty and for strength, as their weapons 
glittered round them in the level morning sunlight, 
through the white mist of the stream. But Jason was the 
noblest of all; for Hera who loved him gave him beauty, 
and tallness, and terrible manhood. 

And when they came near together and looked into 
each other’s eyes, the heroes were awed before Aietes as 
he shone in his chariot, like his father the glorious Sun; 
for his robes were of rich gold tissue, and the rays of his 
diadem flashed fire; and in his hand he bore a jewelled 
sceptre, which glittered like the stars; and sternly he 
looked at them under his brows, and sternly he spoke and 
loud: 

“Who are you, and what want you here, that you 
come to the shore of Cutaia ? Do you take no account of 
my rule, nor of my people the Colchians who serve me, 
who never tired yet in the battle, and know well how to 
face an invader?” 

And the heroes sat silent awhile before the face of that 
ancient king. But Hera the awful goddess put courage 
into Jason’s heart, and he rose and shouted loudly in 
answer: “We are no pirates, nor lawless men. We 
come not to plunder and to ravage, or carry away slaves 
from your land; but my uncle, the son of Poseidon, 


The Argonauts 


261 


Pelias the Minuan king, he it is who has set me on a 
quest to bring home the golden fleece. And these, too, my 
bold comrades, they are no nameless men; for some are 
the sons of immortals, and some of heroes far renowned. 
And we, too, never tire in battle, and know well how to 
give blows and to take; yet we wish to be guests at your 
table; it will be better so for both.” 

Then Aietes’s rage rushed up like a whirlwind, and his 
eyes flashed fire as he heard; but he crushed his anger 
down in his breast, and spoke mildly a cunning speech : 

“If you will fight for the fleece with my Colchians, then 
many a man must die. But do you indeed expect to win 
from me the fleece in fight ? So few you are, that if you 
be worsted, I can load your ship with your corpses. But 
if you will be ruled by me, you will find it better far to 
choose the best man among you, and let him fulfil the 
labours which I demand. Then I will give him the 
golden fleece for a prize and a glory to you all.” 

So saying, he turned his horses and drove back in 
silence to the town. And the Minuai sat silent with 
sorrow, and longed for Heracles and his strength; for 
there was no facing the thousands of the Colchians, and 
the fearful chance of war. 

But Chalciope, Phrixus’s widow, went weeping to the 
town; for she remembered her Minuan husband, and all 
the pleasures of her youth, while she watched the fair 
faces of his kinsmen, and their long locks of golden hair. 
And she whispered to Medeia her sister: “Why should 
all these brave men die? why does not my father give 
them up the fleece, that my husband’s spirit may have 
rest?” 

And Medeia’s heart pitied the heroes, and Jason 
most of all; and she answered, “Our father is stern and 


262 Myths Every Child Should Know 

terrible, and who can win the golden fleece ?” But 
Chalciope said: “These men are not like our men; 
there is nothing which they cannot dare nor do.” 

And Medeia thought of Jason and his brave coun- 
tenance, and said: “If there was one among them who 
knew no fear, I could show him how to win the fleece.” 

So in the dusk of evening they went down to the river- 
side, Chalciope and Medeia the witch maiden, and Argus, 
Phrixus’s son. And Argus the boy crept forward, 
among the beds of reeds, till he came where the heroes 
were sleeping, on the thwarts of the ship, beneath the 
bank, while Jason kept ward on shore, and leant upon 
his lance full of thought. And the boy came to Jason, 
and said: 

“lam the son of Phrixus, your cousin; and Chalciope 
my mother waits for you, to talk about the golden fleece.” 

Then Jason went boldly with the boy, and found the 
two princesses standing; and when Chalciope saw him 
she wept, and took his hands, and cried: 

“O cousin of my beloved, go home before you die!” 

“It would be base to go home now, fair princess, 
and to have sailed all these seas in vain.” Then both 
the princesses besought him: but Jason said, “It is 
too late.” 

“But you know not,” said Medeia, “what he must do 
who would win the fleece. He must tame the two brazen- 
footed bulls, who breathe devouring flame; and with 
them he must plough ere nightfall four acres in the field 
of Ares; and he must sow them with serpents’ teeth, of 
which each tooth springs up into an armed man. Then 
he must fight with all those warriors; and little will it 
profit him to conquer them; for the fleece is guarded by 
a serpent, more huge than any mountain pine; and over 


The Argonauts 263 

his body you must step, if you would reach the golden 
fleece.” 

Then Jason laughed bitterly. “ Unjustly is that fleece 
kept here, and by an unjust and lawless king; and un- 
justly shall I die in my youth, for I will attempt it ere 
another sun be set.” 

Then Medeia trembled, and said: “No mortal man 
can reach that fleece, unless I guide him through. For 
round it, beyond the river, is a wall full nine ells high, 
with lofty towers and buttresses, and mighty gates of 
threefold brass; and over the gates the wall is arched, 
with golden battlements above. And over the gateway 
sits Brimo, the wild witch huntress of the woods, brand- 
ishing a pine torch in her hands, while her mad hounds 
howl around. No man dare meet her or look on her, 
but only I her priestess, and she watches far and wide 
lest any stranger should come near.” 

“No wall so high but it may be climbed at last, and 
no wood so thick but it may be crawled through; no 
serpent so wary but he may be charmed, or witch queen 
so fierce but spells may soothe her; and I may yet win 
the golden fleece, if a wise maiden help bold men.” 

And he looked at Medeia cunningly, and held her 
with his glittering eye, till she blushed and trembled, and 
said: 

“Who can face the fire of the bulls’ breath, and fight 
ten thousand armed men?” 

“He whom you help,” said Jason, flattering her, “for 
your fame is spread over all the earth. Are you not the 
queen of all enchantresses, wiser even than your sister 
Circe, in her fairy island in the West?” 

“Would that I were with my sister Circe in her fairy 
island in the West, far away from sore temptation, and 


264 Myths Every Child Should Know 

thoughts which tear the heart! But if it must be so — for 
why should you die? — I have an ointment here; I made 
it from the magic ice flower which sprang from Prome- 
theus’s wound, above the clouds on Caucasus, in the 
dreary fields of snow. Anoint yourself with that, and 
you shall have in you seven men’s strength; and anoint 
your shield with it, and neither fire nor sword can harm 
you. But what you begin you must end before sunset, 
for its virtue lasts only one day. And anoint your helmet 
with it before you sow the serpents’ teeth ; and when the 
sons of earth spring up, cast your helmet among their 
ranks, and the deadly crop of the War-god’s field will 
mow itself, and perish.” 

Then Jason fell on his knees before her, and thanked 
her and kissed her hands; and she gave him the vase 
of ointment, and fled trembling through the reeds. And 
Jason told his comrades what had happened, and showed 
them the box of ointment; and all rejoiced but Idas 
and he grew mad with envy. 

And at sunrise Jason went and bathed, and anointed 
himself from head to foot, and his shield, and his helmet, 
and his weapons, and bade his comrades try the spell. 
So they tried to bend his lance, but it stood like an iron 
bar; and Idas in spite hewed at it with his sword, but 
the blade flew to splinters in his face. Then they hurled 
their lances at his shield, but the spear points turned like 
lead; and Caineus tried to throw him, but he never 
stirred a foot; and Polydeuces struck him with his fist 
a blow which would have killed an ox; but Jason only 
smiled, and the heroes danced about him with delight; 
and he leapt and ran, and shouted, in the joy of that 
enormous strength, till the sun rose, and it was time to 
go and to claim Aietes’s promise. 


The Argonauts 


265 


So he sent up Telamon and Aithalides to tell Aietes 
that he was ready for the fight; and they went up among 
the marble walls, and beneath the roofs of gold, and stood 
in Aietes’s hall, while he grew pale with rage. 

“Fulfil your promise to us, child of the blazing sun. 
Give us the serpents’ teeth, and let loose the fiery bulls; 
for we have found a champion among us who can win 
the golden fleece.” 

And Aietes bit his lips, for he fancied that they had 
fled away by night; but he could not go back from his 
promise; so he gave them the serpents’ teeth. 

Then he called for his chariot and his horses, and 
sent heralds through all the town; and all the people 
went out with him to the dreadful War-god’s field. 

And there Aietes sat upon his throne, with his warriors 
on each hand, thousands and tens of thousands, clothed 
from head to foot in steel-chain mail. And the people 
and the women crowded to every window, and bank 
and wall; while the Minuai stood together, a mere hand- 
ful in the midst of that great host. 

And Chalciope was there and Argus, trembling, and 
Medeia, wrapped closely in her veil; but Aietes did not 
know that she was muttering cunning spells between 
her lips. 

Then Jason cried, “Fulfil your promise, and let your 
fiery bulls come forth.” 

Then Aietes bade open the gates, and the magic bulls 
leapt out. Their brazen hoofs rang upon the ground, 
and their nostrils sent out sheets of flame, as they rushed 
with lowered heads upon Jason; but he never flinched 
a step. The flame of their breath swept round him, 
but it singed not a hair of his head; and the bulls stopped 
short and trembled, when Medeia began her spell. 


266 Myths Every Child Should Know 

Then Jason sprang upon the nearest, and seized him 
by the horn; and up and down they wrestled, till the bull 
fell grovelling on his knees; for the heart of the brute 
died within him, and his mighty limbs were loosed 
beneath the steadfast eye of that dark witch maiden, 
and the magic whisper of her lips. 

So both the bulls were tamed and yoked; and Jason 
bound them to the plough, and goaded them onward 
with his lance, till he had ploughed the sacre'd field. 

And all the Minuai shouted; but Aietes bit his lips 
with rage; for the half of Jason’s work was over, and 
the sun was yet high in heaven. 

Then he took the serpents’ teeth and sowed them, 
and waited what would befall. But Medeia looked at 
him and at his helmet, lest he should forget the lesson 
she had taught. 

And every furrow heaved and bubbled, and out of 
every clod rose a man. Out of the earth they rose by 
thousands, each clad from head to foot in steel, and 
drew their swords and rushed on Jason, where he stood 
in the midst alone. Then the Minuai grew pale with 
fear for him; but Aietes laughed a bitter laugh. “See! 
if I had not warriors enough already round me, I could 
call them out of the bosom of the earth.” 

But Jason snatched off his helmet, and hurled it into 
the thickest of the throng. And blind madness came 
upon them, suspicion, hate, and fear; and one cried to 
his fellow, “Thou didst strike me!” and another, “Thou 
art Jason; thou shalt die!” So fury seized those earth- 
born phantoms, and each turned his hand against the 
rest; and they fought and were never weary, till they 
all lay dead upon the ground. Then the magic furrows 
opened, and the kind earth took them home into her 


The Argonauts 267 

breast; and the grass grew up all green again above 
them, and Jason’s work was done. 

Then the Minuai rose and shouted, till Prometheus 
heard them from his crag. And Jason cried: “Lead 
me to the fleece this moment, before the sun goes down.” 

But Aietes thought: “He has conquered the bulls; 
and sown and reaped the deadly crop. Who is this who 
is proof against all magic? He may kill the serpent 
yet.” So he delayed, and sat taking counsel with his 
princes, till the sun went down and all was dark. Then 
he bade a herald cry, “Every man to his home for to-night. 
To-morrow we will meet these heroes, and speak about 
the golden fleece.” 

Then he turned and looked at Medeia: “This is 
your doing, false witch maid! You have helped these 
yellow-haired strangers, and brought shame upon your 
father and yourself!” 

Medeia shrank and trembled, and her face grew pale 
with fear; and Aietes knew that she was guilty, and 
whispered, “If they win the fleece, you die!” 

But the Minuai marched toward their ship, growling 
like lions cheated of their prey; for they saw that Aietes 
meant to mock them, and to cheat them out of all their 
toil. And Oileus said, “Let us go to the grove together, 
and take the fleece by force.” 

And Idas the rash cried, “Let us draw lots who shall 
go in first; for while the dragon is devouring one, the 
rest can slay him, and carry off the fleece in peace.” 
But Jason held them back, though he praised them; 
for he hoped for Medeia’s help. 

And after awhile Medeia came trembling, and wept a 
long while before she spoke. And at last: 

“My end is come, and I must die; for my father has 


268 Myths Every Child Should Know 

found out that I have helped you. You he would kill 
if he dared ; but he will not harm you, because you have 
been his guests. Go then, go, and remember poor 
Medeia when you are far away across the sea.” But 
all the heroes cried: 

“If you die, we die with you; for without you we 
cannot win the fleece, and home we will not go without 
it, but fall here fighting to the last man.” 

“You need not die,” said Jason. “Flee home with 
us across the sea. Show us first how to win the fleece; 
for you can do it. Why else are you the priestess of 
the grove? Show us but how to win the fleece, and 
come with us, and you shall be my queen, and rale over 
the rich princes of the Minuai, in Iolcos by the sea.” 

And all the heroes pressed round, and vowed to her 
that she should be their queen. 

Medeia wept, and shuddered, and hid her face in 
her hands; for her heart yearned after her sisters and 
her playfellows, and the home where she was brought 
up as a child. But at last she looked up at Jason, and 
spoke between her sobs: 

“Must I leave my home and my people, to wander 
with strangers across the sea? The lot is cast, and I 
must endure it. I will show you how to win the golden 
fleece. Bring up your ship to the woodside, and moor 
her there against the bank and let Jason come up at 
midnight, and one brave comrade with him, and meet 
me beneath the wall.” 

Then all the heroes cried together: “I will go!” 
“and I!” “and I!” And Idas the rash grew mad with 
envy; for he longed to be foremost in all things. But 
Medeia calmed them, and said: “Orpheus shall go 
with Jason, and bring his magic harp; for I hear of him 


The Argonauts 269 

that he is the king of all minstrels, and can charm all 
things on earth.” 

And Orpheus laughed for joy, and clapped his 
hands, because the choice had fallen on him; for in 
those days poets and singers were as bold warriors as 
the best. 

So at midnight they went up the bank, and found 
Medeia; and beside came Absyrtus her young brother, 
leading a yearling lamb. 

Then Medeia brought them to a thicket, beside the 
War-god’s gate; and there she bade Jason dig a ditch, 
and kill the lamb and leave it there, and strew on it 
magic herbs and honey from the honeycomb. 

Then sprang up through the earth, with the red fire 
flashing before her, Brimo the wild witch huntress, 
while her mad hounds howled around. She had one 
head like a horse’s, and another like a ravening hound’s, 
and another like a hissing snake’s, and a sword in either 
hand. And she leapt into the ditch with her hounds, 
and they ate and drank their fill, while Jason and Orpheus 
trembled, and Medeia hid her eyes. And at last the 
witch queen vanished, and fled with her hounds into 
the woods; and the bars of the gates fell down, and 
the brazen doors flew wide, and Medeia and the 
heroes ran forward and hurried through the poison 
wood, among the dark stems of the mighty beeches, guided 
by the gleam of the golden fleece, until they saw it hang- 
ing on one vast tree in the midst. And Jason would have 
sprung to seize it; but Medeia held him back, and 
pointed shuddering to the tree foot, where the mighty 
serpent lay, coiled in and out among the roots, with a 
- body like a mountain pine. His coils stretched many 
a fathom, spangled with bronze and gold; and half of 


270 Myths Every Child Should Know 

him they could see, but no more; for the rest lay in 
the darkness far beyond. 

And when he saw them coming, he lifted up his head, 
and watched them with his small bright eyes, and flashed 
his forked tongue, and roared like the fire among the 
woodlands, till the forest tossed and groaned. For his 
cry shook the trees from leaf to root, and swept over 
the long reaches of the river, and over .Fetes’s hall, 
and woke the sleepers in the city, till mothers clasped 
their children in their fear. 

But Medeia called gently to him; and he stretched 
out his long spotted neck, and licked her hand, and 
looked up in her face, as if to ask for food. Then she 
made a sign to Orpheus, and he began his magic song. 

And as he sung, the forest grew calm again, and the 
leaves on every tree hung still; and the serpent’s head 
sank down, and his brazen coils grew limp, and his 
glittering eyes closed lazily, till he breathed as gently as 
a child, while Orpheus called to pleasant Slumber, who 
gives peace to men, and beasts, and waves. 

Then Jason leapt forward warily, and stept across 
that mighty snake, and tore the fleece from off the tree 
trunk; and the four rushed down the garden, to the 
bank where the Argo lay. 

There was a silence for a moment, while Jason held 
the golden fleece on high. Then he cried: “Go now, 
good Argo, swift and steady, if ever you would see Pelion 
more.” 

And she went, as the heroes drove her, grim and silent 
all, with muffled oars, till the pine wood bent like willow 
in their hands, and stout Argo groaned beneath their 
strokes. 

On and on, beneath the dewy darkness, they fled 


The Argonauts 


271 


swiftly down the swirling stream; underneath black 
walls, and temples, and the castles of the princes of the 
East; past sluice mouths, and fragrant gardens, and 
groves of all strange fruits; past marshes where fat kine 
lay sleeping, and long beds of whispering reeds; till 
they heard the merry music of the surge upon the bar, 
as it tumbled in the moonlight all alone. 

Into the surge they rushed, and Argo leapt the breakers 
like a horse; for she knew the time was come to show 
her mettle, and win honour for the heroes and herself. 

Into the surge they rushed, and Argo leapt the break- 
ers like a horse, till the heroes stopped all panting, each 
man upon his oar, as she slid into the still broad sea. 

Then Orpheus took his harp and sang a paean, till 
the heroes’ hearts rose high again; and they rowed on 
stoutly and steadfastly, away into the darkness of the 
West. 


part v 

How the Argonauts Were Driven into the Unknown Sea 

So they fled away in haste to the westward: but Aietes 
manned his fleet and followed them. And Lynceus the 
quick eyed saw him coming, while he was still many a 
mile away, and cried : “I see a hundred ships, like a flock 
of white swans, far in the east.” And at that they rowed 
hard, like heroes; but the ships came nearer every hour. 

Then Medeia, the dark witch maiden, laid a cruel 
and a cunning plot; for she killed Absyrtus her young 
brother, and cast him into the sea, and said: “Ere my 
father can take up his corpse and bury it, he must wait 
long, and be left far behind.” 


272 Myths Every Child Should Know 

And all the heroes shuddered, and looked one at the 
other for shame; yet they did not punish that dark 
witch woman, because she had won for them the golden 
fleece. 

And when Aietes came to the place, he saw the float- 
ing corpse; and he stopped a long while, and bewailed 
his son, and took him up, and went home. But he sent 
on his sailors toward the westward, and bound them by 
a mighty curse: “Bring back to me that dark witch 
woman, that she may die a dreadful death. But if you 
return without her, you shall die by the same death 
yourselves.” 

So the Argonauts escaped for that time; but Father 
Zeus saw that foul crime; and out of the heavens he sent 
a storm, and swept the ship far from her course. Day 
after day the storm drove her, amid foam and blinding 
mist, till they knew no longer where they were, for the 
sun was blotted from the skies. And at last the ship 
struck on a shoal, amid low isles of mud and sand, and 
the waves rolled over her and through her, and the heroes 
lost all hope of life. 

Then Jason cried to Hera: “Fair queen, who hast 
befriended us till now, why hast thou left us in our misery, 
to die here among unknown seas ? It is hard to lose the 
honour which we have won with such toil and danger, 
and hard never to see Hellas again, and the pleasant bay 
of Pagasai.” 

Then out and spoke the magic bough which stood 
upon the Argo’s beak: “Because Father Zeus is angry, 
all this has fallen on you; for a cruel crime has been 
done on board, and the sacred ship is foul with blood.” 

At that some of the heroes cried: “Medeia is the 
murderess. Let the witch woman bear her sin, and die ! ” 


The Argonauts 


273 


And they seized Medeia, to hurl her into the sea and 
atone for the young boy’s death; but the magic bough 
spoke again: “Let her live till her crimes are full. 
Vengeance waits for her, slow and sure; but she must 
live, for you need her still. She must show you the way 
to her sister Circe, who lives among the islands of the 
West. To her you must sail, a weary way, and she shall 
cleanse you from your guilt.” 

Then all the heroes wept aloud when they heard the 
sentence of the oak; for they knew that a dark journey 
lay before them, and years of bitter toil. And some 
upbraided the dark witch woman, and some said : “ Nay, 
we are her debtors still; without her we should never 
have won the fleece.” But most of them bit their lips 
in silence, for they feared the witch’s spells. 

And now the sea grew calmer, and the sun shone out 
once more, and the heroes thrust the ship off the sand 
bank, and rowed forward on their weary course, under 
the guiding of the dark witch maiden, into the wastes of 
the unknown sea. 

Whither they went I cannot tell, nor how they came 
to Circe’s isle. Some say that they went to the west- 
ward, and up the Ister* stream, and so came into the 
Adriatic, dragging their ship over the snowy Alps. And 
others say that they went southward, into the Red Indian 
Sea, and past the sunny lands where spices grow, round 
^Ethiopia toward the west; and that at last they came 
to Libya, and dragged their ship across the burning 
sands, and over the hills into the Syrtes, where the flats 
and quicksands spread for many a mile, between rich 
Cyrene and the Lotus-eaters’ shore. But all these are 
but dreams and fables, and dim hints of unknown lands. 

* The Danube. 


274 Myths Every Child Shoidd Know 

But all say that they came to a place where they had 
to drag their ship across the land nine days with ropes 
and rollers, till they came into an unknown sea. And 
the best of all the old songs tells us, how they went away 
toward the north, till they came to the slope of Caucasus, 
where it sinks into the sea; and to the narrow Cimmerian 
Bosphorus,* where the Titan swam across upon the bull; 
and thence into the lazy waters of the still Maeotid Lake.f 
And thence they went northward ever, up the Tanais, 
which we call Don, past the Geloni and Sauromatai, 
and many a wandering shepherd tribe, and the one-eyed 
Arimaspi, of whom old Greek poets tell, who steal the 
gold from the Griffins, in the cold RhiphaianJ hills. 

And they passed the Scythian archers, and the Tauri 
who eat men, and the wandering Hyperboreai, who feed 
their flocks beneath the pole star, until they came 
into the northern ocean, the dull dead Cronian Sea.§ 
And there Argo would move on no longer; and each 
man clasped his elbow, and leaned his head upon his 
hand, heartbroken with toil and hunger, and gave him- 
self up to death. But brave Ancaios the helmsman 
cheered up their hearts once more, and bade them leap 
on land, and haul the ship with ropes and rollers for 
many a weary day, whether over land, or mud, or ice, 
I know not, for the song is mixed and broken like a dream. 
And it says next, how they came to the rich nation of 
the famous long-lived men; and to the coast of the 
Cimmerians, who never saw the sun, buried deep in the 
glens of the snow mountains; and to the fair land of 

* Between the Crimaea and Circassia. 

•j- The Sea of Azov. 

$ The Ural Mountains. 

§ The Baltic. 


The Argonauts 


275 


Hermione, where dwelt the most righteous of all nations; 
and to the gates of the world below, and to the dwelling 
place of dreams. 

And at last Ancaios shouted: “Endure a little while, 
brave friends, the worst is surely past; for I can see the 
pure west wind ruffle the water, and hear the roar of 
ocean on the sands. So raise up the mast, and set the 
sail, and face what comes like men.” 

Then out spoke the magic bough: “Ah, would that 
I had perished long ago, and been whelmed by the dread 
blue rocks, beneath the fierce swell of the Euxine ! Better 
so, than to wander forever, disgraced by the guilt of my 
princes; for the blood of Absyrtus still tracks me, and 
woe follows hard upon woe. And now some dark horror 
will clutch me, if I come near the Isle of Ierne.* Unless 
you will cling to the land, and sail southward and south- 
ward forever, I shall wander beyond the Atlantic, to the 
ocean which has no shore.” 

Then they blest the magic bough, and sailed south- 
ward along the land. But ere they could pass Ierne, 
the land of mists and storms, the wild wind came down, 
dark and roaring, and caught the sail, and strained the 
ropes. And away they drove twelve nights, on the wide 
wild western sea, through the foam, and over the rollers, 
while they saw neither sun nor stars. And they cried 
again: “We shall perish, for we know not where we 
are. We are lost in the dreary damp darkness, and 
cannot tell north from south.” 

But Lynceus the long sighted called gayly from the 
bows: “Take heart again, brave sailors; for I see a 
pine-clad isle, and the halls of the kind Earth mother, 
with a crown of clouds around them.” 


* Britain. 


276 Myths Every Child Should Know 

But Orpheus said: “Turn from them, for no living 
man can land there: there is no harbour on the coast, 
but steep-walled cliffs all round.” 

So Ancaios turned the ship away; and for three days 
more they sailed on, till they came to Aiaia, Circe’s 
home, and the fairy island of the West. 

And there Jason bid them land, and seek about for any 
sign of living man. And as they went inland, Circe met 
them, coming down toward the ship; and they trembled 
when they saw her; for her hair, and face, and robes, 
shone like flame. 

And she came and looked at Medeia ; and Medeia hid 
her face beneath her veil. 

And Circe cried, “Ah, wretched girl, have you forgotten 
all your sins, that you come hither to my island, where the 
flowers bloom all the year round? Where is your aged 
father, and the brother whom you killed? Little do I 
expect you to return in safety with these strangers whom 
you love. I will send you food and wine : but your ship 
must not stay here, for it is foul with sin, and foul with sin 
its crew.” 

And the heroes prayed her, but in vain, and cried, 
“Cleanse us from our guilt!” But she sent them away 
and said, “Go on to Malea, and there you may be 
cleansed, and return home.” 

Then a fair wind rose, and they sailed eastward, by 
Tartessus on the Iberian shore, till they came to the 
Pillars of Hercules, and the Mediterranean Sea. And 
thence they sailed on through the deeps of Sardinia, and 
past the Ausonian Islands, and the capes of the Tyrrhenian 
shore, till they came to a flowery island, upon a still, bright 
summer’s eve. And as they neared it, slowly and wearily, 
they heard sweet songs upon the shore. But when 


The Argonauts 


277 


Medeia heard it, she started, and cried: “Beware, all 
heroes, for these are the rocks of the Sirens. You must 
pass close by them, for there is no other channel; but 
those who listen to that song are lost.” 

Then Orpheus spoke, the king of all minstrels: “Let 
them match their song against mine. I have charmed 
stones, and trees, and dragons, how much more the hearts 
of man!” So he caught up his lyre, and stood upon the 
poop, and began his magic song. 

And now they could see the Sirens, on Anthemousa, the 
flowery isle; three fair maidens sitting on the beach, 
beneath a red rock in the setting sun, among beds of crim- 
son poppies and golden asphodel. Slowly they sung and 
sleepily, with silver voices, mild and clear, which stole over 
the golden waters, and into the hearts of all the heroes, in 
spite of Orpheus’s song. 

And all things stayed around and listened; the gulls 
sat in white lines along the rocks; on the beach great 
seals lay basking, and kept time with lazy heads; while 
silver shoals of fish came up to hearken, and whispered as 
they broke the shining calm. The Wind overhead hushed 
his whistling, as he shepherded his clouds toward the 
west; and the clouds stood in mid blue, and listened 
dreaming, like a flock of golden sheep. 

And as the heroes listened, the oars fell from their 
hands, and their heads drooped on their breasts, and they 
closed their heavy eyes; and they dreamed of bright still 
gardens, and of slumbers under murmuring pines, till all 
their toil seemed foolishness, and they thought of their 
renown no more. 

Then one lifted his head suddenly, and cried, “What 
use in wandering forever? Let us stay here and rest 
awhile.” And another, “Let us row to the shore, and 


278 Myths Every Child Should Know 

hear the words they sing.” And another, “I care not 
for the words, but for the music. They shall sing me to 
sleep, that I may rest.” 

And Butes, the son of Pandion, the fairest of all mortal 
men, leapt out and swam toward the shore, crying, “I 
come, I come, fair maidens, to live and die here, listening 
to your song.” 

Then Medeia clapped her hands together, and cried, 
“Sing louder, Orpheus, sing a bolder strain; wake up 
these hapless sluggards, or none of them will see the land 
of Hellas more.” 

Then Orpheus lifted his harp, and crashed his cunning 
hand across the strings; and his music and his voice rose 
like a trumpet through the still evening air; into the air 
it rushed like thunder, till the rocks rang and the sea; 
and into their souls it rushed like wine, till all hearts beat 
fast within their breasts. 

And he sung the song of Perseus, how the Gods led 
him over land and sea, and how he slew the loathly Gor- 
gon, and won himself a peerless bride; and how he sits 
now with the Gods upon Olympus, a shining star in the 
sky, immortal with his immortal bride, and honoured 
by all men below. 

So Orpheus sang, and the Sirens, answering each other 
across the golden sea, till Orpheus’s voice drowned the 
Sirens, and the heroes caught their oars again. 

And they cried: “We will be men like Perseus, and we 
will dare and suffer to the last. Sing us his song again, brave 
Orpheus, that we may forget the Sirens and their spell.” 

And as Orpheus sang, they dashed their oars into the 
sea, and kept time to his music, as they fled fast away; 
and the Sirens’ voices died behind them, in the hissing 
of the foam along their wake. 


The Argonauts 


279 

But Butes swam to the shore, and knelt down before 
the Sirens, and cried, “Sing on! sing on!” But he could 
say no more; for a charmed sleep came over him, and a 
pleasant humming in his ears; and he sank all along upon 
the pebbles, and forgot all heaven and earth, and never 
looked at that sad beach around him, all strewn with the 
bones of men. 

Then slowly rose up those three fair sisters, with a cruel 
smile upon their lips; and slowly they crept down toward 
him, like leopards who creep upon their prey; and their 
hands were like the talons of eagles, as they stept across 
the bones of their victims to enjoy their cruel feast. 

But fairest Aphrodite saw him from the highest Idalian 
peak, and she pitied his youth and his beauty, and leapt up 
from her golden throne; and like a falling star she cleft 
the sky, and left a trail of glittering light, till she stooped 
to the Isle of the Sirens, and snatched their prey from their 
claws. And she lifted Butes as he lay sleeping, and wrapt 
him in a golden mist; and she bore him to the peak of 
Lilybaeum; and he slept there many a pleasant year. 

But when the Sirens saw that they were conquered, 
they shrieked for envy and rage, and leapt from the beach 
into the sea, and were changed into rocks until this day. 

Then they came to the straits by Lilybaeum, and saw 
Sicily, the three-cornered island, under which Enceladus 
the giant lies groaning day and night, and when he turns 
the earth quakes, and his breath bursts out in roaring 
flames from the highest cone of iEtna, above the chestnut 
woods. And there Charybdis caught them in its fearful 
coils of wave, and rolled mast-high about them, and spun 
them round and round; and they could go neither back 
nor forward, while the whirlpool sucked them in. 

And while they struggled they saw near them, on the 


280 Myths Every Child Should Know 

other side of the strait, a rock stand in the water, with a 
peak wrapt round in clouds; a rock which no man could 
climb, though he had twenty hands and feet, for the stone 
was smooth and slippery, as if polished by man’s hand; 
and half way up a misty cave looked out toward the west. 

And when Orpheus saw it, he groaned, and struck his 
hands together. And “ Little will it help to us,” he cried, 
“to escape the jaws of the whirlpool; for in that cave 
lives Scylla, the sea-hag with a young whelp’s voice; my 
mother warned me of her ere we sailed away from Hellas; 
she has six heads, and six long necks, and hides in that 
dark cleft. And from her cave she fishes for all things 
which pass by, for sharks, and seals, and dolphins, and all 
the herds of Amphitrite. And never ship’s crew boasted 
that they came safe by her rock; for she bends her long 
necks down to them, and every mouth takes up a man. 
And who will help us now? For Hera and Zeus hate us, 
and our ship is foul with guilt ; so we must die, whatever 
befalls.” 

Then out of the depths came Thetis, Peleus’s silver- 
footed bride, for love of her gallant husband, and all her 
nymphs around her; and they played like snow-white 
dolphins, diving on from wave to wave, before the ship, 
and in her wake, and beside her, as dolphins play. And 
they caught the ship, and guided her, and passed her on 
from hand to hand, and tossed her through the billows, 
as maidens toss the ball. And when Scylla stooped to 
seize her, they struck back her ravening heads, and foul 
Scylla whined, as a whelp whines, at the touch of their 
gentle hands. But she shrank into her cave affrighted; 
for all bad things shrink from good ; and Argo leapt safe 
past her, while a fair breeze rose behind. Then Thetis 
and her nymphs sank down to their gardens of green and 


The Argonauts 


281 


purple, where live flowers of bloom all the year round; 
while the heroes went on rejoicing, yet dreading what 
might come next. 

After that they rowed on steadily for many a weary day, 
till they saw a long high island, and beyond it a mountain 
land. And they searched till they found a harbour, and 
there rowed boldly in. But after awhile they stopped, 
and wondered; for there stood a great city on the shore, 
and temples and walls and gardens, and castles high in 
air upon the cliffs. And on either side they saw a 
harbour, with a narrow mouth, but wide within; and 
black ships without number, high and dry upon the 
shore. 

Then Ancaius, the wise helmsman, spoke: “What new 
wonder is this ? I know all isles, and harbours, and the 
windings of all the seas; and this should be Corcyra, 
where a few wild goatherds dwell. But whence come 
these new harbours, and vast works of polished stone ? ” 

But Jason said: “They can be no savage people. We 
will go in and take our chance.” 

So they rowed into the harbour, among a thousand 
black-beaked ships, each larger far than Argo, toward a 
quay of polished stone. And they wondered at that 
mighty city, with its roofs of burnished brass, and long 
and lofty walls of marble, with strong palisades above. 
And the quays were full of people, merchants, and 
mariners, and slaves, going to and fro with merchandise 
among the crowd of ships. And the heroes’ hearts were 
humbled, and they looked at each other and said: “We 
thought ourselves a gallant crew when we sailed from 
Iolcos by the sea; but how small we look before this city, 
like an ant before a hive of bees.” 

Then the sailors hailed them roughly from the quay: 


282 Myths Every Child Should Know 

“What men are you? — we want no strangers here, nor 
pirates. We keep our business to ourselves.” 

But Jason answered gently, with many a flattering 
word, and praised their city and their harbour, and their 
fleet of gallant ships. “Surely you are the children of 
Poseidon, and the masters of the sea; and we are but poor 
wandering mariners, worn out with thirst and toil. Give 
us but food and water, and we will go on our voyage in 
peace.” 

Then the sailors laughed and answered: “Stranger, 
you are no fool; you talk like an honest man, and you 
shall find us honest too. We are the children of Poseidon, 
and the masters of the sea; but come ashore to us, and 
you shall have the best that we can give.” 

So they limped ashore, all stiff and weary, with long 
ragged beards and sunburnt cheeks, and garments torn 
and weather-stained, and weapons rusted with the spray, 
while the sailors laughed at them (for they were rough- 
tongued, though their hearts were frank and kind). And 
one said: “These fellows are but raw sailors; they look 
as if they had been sea-sick all the day.” And another: 
“Their legs have grown crooked with much rowing, till 
they waddle in their walk like ducks.” 

At that Idas the rash would have struck them; but 
Jason held him back, till one of the merchant kings spoke 
to them, a tall and stately man. 

“ Do not be angry, strangers; the sailor boys must have 
their jest. But we will treat you justly and kindly, for 
strangers and poor men come from God; and you seem 
no common sailors by your strength, and height, and 
weapons. Come up with me to the palace of Alcinous, 
the rich sea-going king, and we will feast you well and 
heartily; and after that you shall tell us your name.” 


The Argonauts 


283 


But Medeia hung back, and trembled, and whispered 
in Jason’s ear, “We are betrayed, and are going to our 
ruin; for I see my countrymen among the crowd; dark- 
eyed Colchi in steel mail shirts, such as they wear in my 
father’s land.” 

“It is too late to turn,” said Jason. And he spoke to 
the merchant king: “What country is this, good sir; and 
what is this new-built town ? ” 

“This is the land of the Phaeaces, beloved by all the 
Immortals; for they come hither and feast like friends 
with us, and sit by our side in the hall. Hither we 
came from Liburnia to escape the unrighteous Cyclopes; 
for they robbed us, peaceful merchants, of our hard- 
earned wares and wealth. So Nausithous, the son of 
Poseidon, brought us hither, and died in peace; and now 
his son Alcinous rules us, and Arete the wisest of queens.” 

So they went up across the square, and wondered still 
more as they went; for along the quays lay in order great 
cables, and yards, and masts, before the fair temple of 
Poseidon, the blue-haired king of the seas. And round 
the square worked the shipwrights, as many in number 
as ants, twining ropes, and hewing timber, and smoothing 
long yards and oars. And the Minuai went on in silence 
through clean white marble streets, till they came to the 
hall of Alcinous, and they wondered then still more. 
For the lofty palace shone aloft in the sun, with walls of 
plated brass, from the threshold to the innermost cham- 
ber, and the doors were of silver and gold. And on each 
side of the doorway sat living dogs of gold, who never 
grew old or died, so well Hephaistus had made them in 
his forges in smoking Lemnos, and gave them to Alcinous 
to guard his gates by night. And within, against the 
walls, stood thrones on either side, down the whole 


284 Myths Every Child Should Know 

length of the hall, strewn with rich glossy shawls; and on 
them the merchant kings of those crafty sea-roving 
Phaeaces sat eating and drinking in pride, and feasting 
there all the year round. And boys of molten gold stood 
each on a polished altar, and held torches in their hands, to 
give light all night to the guests. And round the house 
sat fifty maid servants, some grinding the meal in the mill, 
some turning the spindle, some weaving at the loom, while 
their hands twinkled as they passed the shuttle, like 
quivering aspen leaves. 

And outside before the palace a great garden was 
walled round, filled full of stately fruit trees, with olives 
and sweet figs, and pomegranates, pears, and apples, 
which bore the whole year round. For the rich south- 
west wind fed them, till pear grew ripe on pear, fig on 
fig, and grape on grape, all the winter and the spring. 
And at the further end gay flower beds bloomed through 
all seasons of the year; and two fair fountains rose, and 
ran, one through the garden grounds, and one beneath 
the palace gate, to water all the town. Such noble 
gifts the heavens had given to Alcinous the wise. 

So they went in, and saw him sitting, like Poseidon, on 
his throne, with his golden sceptre by him, in garments 
stiff with gold, and in his hand a sculptured goblet, as 
he pledged the merchant kings; and beside him stood 
Arete, his wise and lovely queen, and leaned against a 
pillar, as she spun her golden threads. 

Then Alcinous rose, and welcomed them, and bade 
them sit and eat; and the servants brought them tables, 
and bread, and meat, and wine. 

But Medeia went on trembling toward Arete, the fair 
queen, and fell at her knees, and clasped them, and cried 
weeping as she knelt: 


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285 


“I am your guest, fair queen, and I entreat you be 
Zeus from whom prayers come. Do not send me back 
to my father, to die some dreadful death; but let me 
go my way, and bear my burden. Have I not had 
enough of punishment and shame?” 

“ Who are you, strange maiden ? and what is the mean- 
ing of your prayer?” 

“I am Medeia, daughter of Aietes, and I saw my 
countrymen here to-day; and I know that they are come 
to find me, and take me home to die some dreadful 
death.” 

Then Arete frowned, and said: “Lead this girl in, 
my maidens; and let the kings decide, not I.” 

And Alcinous leapt up from his throne, and cried, 
“Speak, strangers, who are you? And who is this 
maiden?” 

“We are the heroes of the Minuai,” said Jason; “and 
this maiden has spoken truth. We are the men who took 
the golden fleece, the men whose fame has run round 
every shore. We came hither out of the ocean, after 
sorrows such as man never saw before. We went out 
many, and come back few, for many a noble comrade 
have we lost. So let us go, as you should let your guests 
go, in peace; that the world may say, ‘Alcinous is a just 
king. , ” 

But Alcinous frowned, and stood deep in thought; and 
at last he spoke: 

“Had not the deed been done, which is done, I should 
have said this day to myself, ‘ It is an honour to Alcinous, 
and to his children after him, that the far-famed Argonauts 
are his guests/ But these Colchi are my guests, as you 
are; and for this month they have waited here with all 
their fleet; for they have hunted all the seas of Hellas, 


286 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


and could not find you, and dared neither go further, 
nor go home.” 

“Let them choose out their champions, and we will 
fight them, man for man.” 

“No guest of ours shall fight upon our island; and if 
you go outside, they will outnumber you. I will do 
justice between you; for I know and do what is right.” 

Then he turned to his kings, and said: “This may 
stand over till to-morrow. To-night we will feast our 
guests, and hear the story of all their wanderings, and how 
they came hither out of the ocean.” 

So Alcinous bade the servants take the heroes in, and 
bathe them, and give them clothes. And they were glad 
when they saw the warm water, for it was long since 
they had bathed. And they washed off the sea salt 
from their limbs, and anointed themselves from head to 
foot with oil, and combed out their golden hair. Then 
they came back again into the hall, while the merchant 
kings rose up to do them honour. And each man said 
to his neighbour: “No wonder that these men won 
fame. How they stand now like Giants, or Titans, or 
Immortals come down from Olympus, though many a 
winter has worn them, and many a fearful storm. What 
must they have been when they sailed from Iolcos, in the 
bloom of their youth, long ago?” 

Then they went out to the garden; and the merchant 
princes said: “Heroes, run races with us. Let us see 
whose feet are nimblest.” 

“We cannot race against you, for our limbs are stiff 
from sea; and we have lost our two swift comrades, the 
sons of the north wind. But do not think us cowards; if 
you wish to try our strength, we will shoot and box, and 
wrestle, against any men on earth.” 


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287 


And Alcinous smiled, and answered: “I believe you, 
gallant guests; with your long limbs and broad shoulders, 
we could never match you here. For we care nothing 
here for boxing, or for shooting with the bow; but for 
feasts, and songs, and harping, and dancing, and running 
races, to stretch our limbs on shore/’ 

So they danced there and ran races, the jolly merchant 
kings, till the night fell, and all went in. 

And then they ate and drank, and comforted their 
weary souls, till Alcinous called a herald, and bade him 
go and fetch the harper. 

The herald went out, and fetched the harper, and led 
him in by the hand ; and Alcinous cut him a piece of meat 
from the fattest of the haunch, and sent it to him, and 
said: “Sing to us, noble harper, and rejoice the heroes’ 
hearts.” 

So the harper played and sang, while the dancers 
danced strange figures; and after that the tumblers 
showed their tricks, till the heroes laughed again. 

Then, “Tell me, heroes,” asked Alcinous, “you who 
have sailed the ocean round, and seen the manners of all 
nations, have you seen such dancers as ours here ? or heard 
such music and such singing? We hold ours to be the 
best on earth.” 

“Such dancing we have never seen,” said Orpheus; 
“and your singer is a happy man; for Phoebus himself 
must have taught him, or else he is the son of a Muse; as 
I am also, and have sung once or twice, though not so 
well as he.” 

“Sing to us, then, noble stranger,” said Alcinous; 
“and we will give you precious gifts.” 

So Orpheus took his magic harp, and sang to them a 
stirring song of their voyage from Iolcos, and their 


288 Myths Every Child Should Know 

dangers, and how they won the golden fleece; and of 
Medeia’s love, and how she helped them, and went 
with them over land and sea; and of all their fearful 
dangers, from monsters, and rocks, and storms, till the 
heart of Arete was softened, and all the women wept. 
And the merchant kings rose up, each man from off 
his golden throne, and clasped their hands, and shouted : 
“Hail to the noble Argonauts, who sailed the unknown 
sea!” 

Then he went on, and told their journey over the 
sluggish northern main, and through the shoreless outer 
ocean, to the fairy island of the West; and of the Sirens, 
and Scylla, and Charybdis, and all the wonders they 
had seen, till midnight passed, and the day dawned; 
but the kings never thought of sleep. Each man sat still 
and listened, with his chin upon his hand. 

And at last when Orpheus had ended, they all went 
thoughtful out, and the heroes lay down to sleep, beneath 
the sounding porch outside, where Arete had strewn them 
rugs and carpets, in the sweet still summer night. 

But Arete pleaded hard with her husband for Medeia, 
for her heart was softened. And she said: “The Gods 
will punish her, not we. After all, she is our guest and 
my suppliant, and prayers are the daughters of Zeus. 
And who, too, dare part man and wife, after all they 
have endured together?” 

And Alcinous smiled. “The minstrel’s song has 
charmed you; but I must remember what is right; for 
songs cannot alter justice; and I must be faithful to my 
name. Alcinous I am called, the man of sturdy sense, 
and Alcinous I will be.” But for all that, Arete besought 
him, until she won him round. 

So next morning he sent a herald, and called the kings 


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289 


into the square, and said: “This is a puzzling matter; 
remember but one thing. These Minuai live close by 
us, and we may meet them often on the seas; but Aietes 
lives afar off, and we have only heard his name. Which, 
then, of the two is it safer to offend, the men near us, or 
the men far off?” 

The princes laughed, and praised his wisdom; and 
Alcinous called the heroes to the square, and the Colchi 
also; and they came and stood opposite each other; but 
Medeia stayed in the palace. Then Alcinous spoke: 
“Heroes of the Colchi, what is your errand about this 
lady ? ” 

“To carry her home with us, that she may die a 
shameful death; but if we return without her, we must 
die the death she should have died.” 

“What say you to this, Jason the .Eolid?” said 
Alcinous, turning to the Minuai. 

“I say,” said the cunning Jason, “that they are come 
here on a bootless errand. Do you think that you can 
make her follow you, heroes of the Colchi? her, who 
knows all spells and charms? She will cast away your 
ships on quicksands, or call down on you Brimo the wild 
huntress; or the chains will fall from off her wrists, and 
she will escape in her dragon car; or if not thus, some 
other way; for she has a thousand plans and wiles. And 
why return home at all, brave heroes, and face the long 
seas again, and the Bosphorus, and the stormy Euxine, 
and double all your toil? There is many a fair land 
round these coasts, which waits for gallant men like you. 
Better to settle there, and build a city, and let Aietes and 
Colchis help themselves.” 

Then a murmur rose among the Colchi, and some 
cried, “He has spoken well”; and some, “We have had 


290 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


enough of roving, we will sail the seas no more!” And 
the chief said at last, “Be it so, then; a plague she has 
been to us, and a plague to the house of her father, and a 
plague she will be to you. Take her, since you are no 
wiser; and we will sail away toward the north.” 

Then Alcinous gave them food, and water, and 
garments, and rich presents of all sorts; and he gave 
the same to the Minuai, and sent them all away in peace. 

So Jason kept the dark witch maiden to breed him 
woe and shame; and the Colchi went northward into the 
Adriatic, and settled, and built towns along the shore. 

Then the heroes rowed away to the eastward, to reach 
Hellas their beloved land; but a storm came down upon 
them, and swept them far away toward the south. 
And they rowed till they were spent with struggling, 
through the darkness and the blinding rain, but where 
they were they could not tell, and they gave up all hope 
of life. And at last they touched the ground, and when 
daylight came they waded to the shore; and saw nothing 
round but sand, and desolate salt pools; for they had 
come to the quicksands of the Syrtis, and the dreary 
treeless flats, which lie between Numidia and Cyrene, on 
the burning shore of Africa. And there they wandered 
starving for many a weary day, ere they could launch 
their ship again, and gain the open sea. And there 
Canthus was killed while he was trying to drive off sheep, 
by a stone which a herdsman threw. 

And there, too, Mopsus died, the seer who knew the 
voices of all birds; but he could not foretell his own end, 
for he was bitten in the foot by a snake, one of those 
which sprang from the Gorgon’s head when Perseus 
carried it across the sands. 

At last they rowed away toward the northward, for 


The Argonauts 


291 


many a weary day, till their water was spent, and their 
food eaten; and they were worn out with hunger and 
thirst. But at last they saw a long steep island, and a 
blue peak high among the clouds; and they knew it for 
the peak of Ida, and the famous land of Crete. And 
they said, “We will land in Crete, and see Minos the just 
king, and all his glory and his wealth; at least he will 
treat us hospitably, and let us fill our water casks upon the 
shore.” 

But when they came nearer to the island they saw a 
wondrous sight upon the cliffs. For on a cape to the 
westward stood a giant, taller than any mountain pine; 
who glittered aloft against the sky like a tower of burnished 
brass. He turned and looked on all sides round him, 
till he saw the Argo and her crew; and when he saw 
them he* came toward them, more swiftly than the swiftest 
horse, leaping across the glens at a bound, and striding 
at one step from down to down. And when he came 
abreast of them he brandished his arms up and down, as a 
ship hoists and lowers her yards, and shouted with his 
brazen throat like a trumpet from off the hills: “You 
are pirates, you are robbers! If you dare land here, you 
die.” 

Then the heroes cried: “We are no pirates. We 
are all good men and true; and all we ask is food and 
water”; but the giant cried the more — 

“You are robbers, you are pirates all; I know you; 
and if you land, you shall die the death.” 

Then he waved his arms again as a signal, and they 
saw the people flying inland, driving their flocks before 
them, while a great flame arose among the hills. Then 
the giant ran up a valley and vanished; and the heroes 
lay on their oars in fear. 


2Q2 Myths Every Child Should Know 

But Medeia stood watching all, from under her steep 
black brows, with a cunning smile upon her lips, and a 
cunning plot within her heart. At last she spoke; 
“ I know this giant. I heard of him in the East. Hepha- 
istos the Fire King made him, in his forge in iEtna 
beneath the earth, and called him Talus, and gave him 
to Minos for a servant, to guard the coast of Crete. 
Thrice a day he walks round the island, and never stops 
to sleep; and if strangers land he leaps into his furnace, 
which flames there among the hills; and when he is 
red hot he rushes on them, and burns them in his brazen 
hands.” 

Then all the heroes cried, “What shall we do, wise 
Medeia? We must have water, or we die of thirst. 
Flesh and blood we can face fairly; but who can face this 
red-hot brass?” 

“I can face red-hot brass, if the tale I hear be true. 
For they say that he has but one vein in all his body, filled 
with liquid fire; and that this vein is closed with a nail; 
but I know not where that nail is placed. But if I can 
get it once into these hands, you shall water your ship 
here in peace.” 

Then she bade them put her on shore, and row off 
again, and wait what would befall. 

And the heroes obeyed her unwillingly; for they were 
ashamed to leave her so alone; but Jason said, “She is 
dearer to me than to any of you, yet I will trust her freely 
on shore; she has more plots than we can dream of, in 
the windings of that fair and cunning head.” 

So they left the witch maiden on the shore; and she 
stood there in her beauty all alone, till the giant strode 
back red hot from head to heel, while the grass hissed 
and smoked beneath his tread. 


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293 


And when he saw the maiden alone, he stopped; and 
she looked boldly up into his face without moving, and 
began her magic song: 

“Life is short, though life is sweet; and even men of 
brass and fire must die. The brass must rust, the fire 
must cool, for time gnaws all things in their turn. Life is 
short, though life is sweet; but sweeter to live forever; 
sweeter to live ever youthful like the Gods, who have 
ichor in their veins; ichor which gives life, and youth, 
and joy, and a bounding heart.” 

Then Talus said, “Who are you, strange maiden; and 
where is this ichor of youth?” 

Then Medeia held up a flask of crystal, and said, 
“Here is the ichor of youth. I am Medeia the en- 
chantress ; my sister Circe gave me this, and said, ‘ Go and 
reward Talus the faithful servant, for his fame is gone 
out into all lands/ So come, and I will pour this into 
your veins, that you may live forever young.” 

And he listened to her false words, that simple Talus, 
and came near; and Medeia said, “Dip yourself in the sea 
first, and cool yourself, lest you burn my tender hands, 
then show me where the nail in your vein is, that I may 
pour the ichor in.” 

Then that simple Talus dipped himself in the sea, till 
it hissed, and roared, and smoked; and came and knelt 
before Medeia, and showed her the secret nail. 

And she drew the nail out gently; but she poured no 
ichor in; and instead the liquid fire spouted forth, like 
a stream of red-hot iron. And Talus tried to leap up, 
crying, “You have betrayed me, false witch maiden!” 
But she lifted up her hands before him, and sang, till he 
sank beneath her spell. And as he sank, his brazen 
limbs clanked heavily, and the earth groaned beneath 


294 Myths Every Child Should Know 

his weight; and the liquid fire ran from his heel, like a 
stream of lava to the sea; and Medeia laughed, and 
called to the heroes, “Come ashore, and water your 
ship in peace.” 

So they came, and found the giant lying dead; and 
they fell down, and kissed Medeia ; s feet; and watered 
their ship, and took sheep and oxen, and so left that 
inhospitable shore. 

At last, after many more adventures, they came to 
the Cape of Malea, at the southwest point of the Pelo- 
ponnese. And there they offered sacrifices, and Orpheus 
purged them from their guilt. Then they rowed away 
again to the northward, past the Laconian shore, and 
came all worn and tired by Sunium, and up the long 
Euboean Strait, until they saw once more Pelion, and 
Aphetai, and Iolcos by the sea. 

And they ran the ship ashore ; but they had no strength 
left to haul her up the beach; and they crawled out on 
the pebbles, and sat down, and wept till they could weep 
no more. For the houses and the trees were all altered; 
and all the faces which they saw were strange; and their 
joy was swallowed up in sorrow, while they thought of 
their youth, and all their labour, and the gallant com- 
rades they had lost. 

And the people crowded round, and asked them, 
“Who are you, that you sit weeping here?” 

“We are the sons of your princes, who sailed out 
many a year ago. We went to fetch the golden fleece; 
and we have brought it, and grief therewith. Give us 
news of our fathers and our mothers, if any of them be 
left alive on earth.” 

Then there was shouting and laughing, and weeping; 
and all the kings came to the shore, and they led away 


The Argonauts 295 

the heroes to their homes, and bewailed the valiant 
dead. 

Then Jason went up with Medeia to the palace of his 
uncle Pelias. And when he came in, Pelias sat by the 
hearth, crippled and blind with age; while opposite him 
sat iEson, Jason’s father, crippled and blind likewise; 
and the two old men’s heads shook together, as they 
tried to warm themselves before the fire. 

And Jason fell down at his father’s knees, and wept, 
and called him by his name. And the old man stretched 
his hands out, and felt him, and said: “Do not mock 
me, young hero. My son Jason is dead long ago at 
sea.” 

“I am your own son Jason, whom you trusted to the 
Centaur upon Pelion; and I have brought home the 
golden fleece, and a princess of the Sun’s race for my 
bride. So now give me up the kingdom, Pelias my 
uncle, and fulfil your promise as I have fulfilled mine.” 

Then his father clung to him like a child, and wept, 
and would not let him go; and cried, “Now I shall not 
go down lonely to my grave. Promise me never to 
leave me till I die.” 


PART VI 

What Was the End 0} the Heroes 

And now I wish that I could end my story pleasantly; 
but it is no fault of mine that I cannot. The old songs 
end it sadly, and I believe that they are right and wise; 
for though the heroes were purified at Malea, yet sac- 
rifices cannot make bad hearts good, and Jason had taken 
a wicked wife, and he had to bear his burden to the last. 


296 Myths Every Child Should Know 

And first she laid a cunning plot, to punish that poor 
old Pelias, instead of letting him die in peace. 

For she told his daughters: “I can make old things 
young again; I will show you how easy it is to do.” So 
she took an old ram and killed him, and put him in a 
cauldron with magic herbs; and whispered her spells 
over him, and he leapt out again a young lamb. So 
that “Medeia’s cauldron” is a proverb still, by which 
we mean times of war and change, when the world has 
become old and feeble, and grows young again through 
bitter pains. 

Then she said to Pelias’s daughters: “Do to your 
father as I did to this ram, and he will grow young and 
strong again.” But she only told them half the spell; 
so they failed, while Medeia mocked them; and poor 
old Pelias died, and his daughters came to misery. But 
the songs say she cured .Eson, Jason’s father, and he 
became young and strong again. 

But Jason could not love her, after all her cruel deeds. 
So he was ungrateful to her, and wronged her: and she 
revenged herself on him. And a terrible revenge she 
took — too terrible to speak of here. But you will hear 
of it yourselves when you grow up, for it has been sung 
in noble poetry and music; and whether it be true or 
not, it stands forever as a warning to us, not to seek for 
help from evil persons, or to gain good ends by evil 
means. For if we use an adder even against our enemies, 
it will turn again and sting us. 

* But of all the other heroes there is many a brave tale 
left, which I have no space to tell you, so you must read 
them for yourselves — of the hunting of the boar in 
Calydon, which Meleager killed; and of Heracles’s 
twelve famous labours; and of the seven who fought at 


The Argonauts 


297 

Thebes ; and of the noble love of Castor and Polydeuces, 
the twin Dioscouroi; how when one died, the other 
would not live without him, so they shared their immor- 
tality between them; and Zeus changed them into the 
two twin stars, which never rise both at once. 

And what became of Cheiron, the good immortal 
beast? That, too, is a sad story; for the heroes never 
saw him more. He was wounded by a poisoned arrow, 
at Pholoe among the hills, when Heracles opened the 
fatal wine jar, which Cheiron had warned him not to 
touch. And the Centaurs smelt the wine, and flocked 
to it, and fought for it with Heracles; but he killed them 
all with his poisoned arrows, and Cheiron was left alone. 
Then Cheiron took up one of the arrows, and dropped 
it by chance upon his foot; and the poison ran like fire 
along his veins, and he lay down, and longed to die; 
and cried: “Through wine I perish, the bane of all 
my race. Why should I live forever in this agony? 
Who will take my immortality that I may die?"” 

Then Prometheus answered, the good Titan, whom 
Heracles had set free from Caucasus: “I will take your 
immortality and live forever, that I may help poor mortal 
men.” So Cheiron gave him his immortality, and died, 
and had rest from pain. And Heracles and Prometheus 
wept over him, and went to bury him on Pelion; but 
Zeus took him up among the stars, to live forever, grand 
and mild, low down in the far southern sky. 

And in time the heroes died, all but Nestor the silver- 
tongued old man; and left behind them valiant sons, 
but not so great as they had been. Yet their fame, too, 
lives till this day; for they fought at the ten years’ siege 
of Troy; and their story is in the book which we call 
Homer, in two of the noblest songs on earth; the Iliad, 


298 Myths Every Child Should Know 

which tells us of the siege of Troy, and Achilles’s quarrel 
with the kings; and the Odyssey, which tells the wander- 
ings of Odysseus, through many lands for many years; 
and how Alcinous sent him home at last, safe to Ithaca 
his beloved island, and to Penelope his faithful wife, 
and Telemachus his son, and Euphorbus the noble swine- 
herd, and the old dog who licked his hand and died. 


CHAPTER XI 


THE GIANT BUILDER 

Ages and ages ago, when the world was first made, 
the gods decided to build a beautiful city high above the 
heavens, the most glorious and wonderful city that ever 
was known. Asgard was to be its name, and it was to 
stand on Ida Plain under the shade of Yggdrasil, the 
great tree whose roots were underneath the earth. 

First of all they built a house with a silver roof, where 
there were seats for all the twelve chiefs. In the midst, 
and high above the rest, was the wonder throne of Odin 
the All-Father, whence he could see everything that 
happened in the sky or on the earth or in the sea. Next 
they made a fair house for Queen Frigg and her lovely 
daughters. Then they built a smithy, with its great 
hammers, tongs, anvils, and bellows, where the gods 
could work at their favourite trade, the making of beau- 
tiful things out of gold; which they did so well that folk 
name that time the Golden Age. Afterward, as they 
had more leisure, they built separate houses for all the 
y£sir, each more beautiful than the preceding, for of 
course they were continually growing more skilful. 
They saved Father Odin’s palace until the last, for they 
meant this to be the largest and the most splendid 
of all. 

Gladsheim, the home of joy, was the name of Odin’s 
house, and it was built all of gold, set in the midst of a 
299 


300 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


wood whereof the trees had leaves of ruddy gold — like 
an autumn-gilded forest. For the safety of All-Father 
it was surrounded by a roaring river and by a high picket 
fence; and there was a great courtyard within. 

The glory of Gladsheim was its wondrous hall, radiant 
with gold, the most lovely room that time has ever seen. 
Valhalla, the Hall of Heroes, was the name of it, and it 
was roofed with the mighty shields of warriors. The 
ceiling was made of interlacing spears, and there was a 
portal at the west end before which hung a great gray 
wolf, while over him a fierce eagle hovered. The hall 
was so huge that it had 540 gates, through each of which 
800 men could march abreast. Indeed, there needed to 
be room, for this was the hall where every morning Odin 
received all the brave warriors who had died in battle 
on the earth below; and there were many heroes in 
those days. 

This was the reward which the gods gave to courage. 
When a hero had gloriously lost his life, the Valkyries, 
the nine warrior daughters of Odin, brought his body 
up to Valhalla on their white horses that gallop the 
clouds. There they lived forever after in happiness, 
enjoying the things that they had most loved upon earth. 
Every morning they armed themselves and went out to 
fight with one another in the great courtyard. It was 
a wondrous game, wondrously played. No matter how 
often a hero was killed, he became alive again in time 
to return perfectly well to Valhalla, where he ate a deli- 
cious breakfast with Ihe /£sir; while the beautiful 
Valkyries who had first brought him thither waited at 
table and poured the blessed mead, which only the 
immortal taste. A happy life it was for the heroes, 
and a happy life for all who dwelt in Asgard; for this 


The Giant Builder 


301 


was before trouble had come among the gods, following 
the mischief of Loki. 

This is how the trouble began. From the beginning 
of time, the giants had been unfriendly to the .Esir, 
because the giants were older and huger and more wicked; 
besides, they were jealous because the good ^Esir were 
fast gaining more wisdom and power than the giants 
had ever known. It was the y£sir who set the fair 
brother and sister, Sun and Moon, in the sky to give light 
to men; and it was they also who made the jewelled 
stars out of sparks from the place of fire. The giants 
hated the .Esir, and tried all in their power to injure them 
and the men of the earth below, whom the Esir loved 
and cared for. The gods had already built a wall around 
Midgard, the world of men, to keep the giants out; 
built it of the bushy eyebrows of Ymir, the oldest and 
hugest of giants. Between Asgard and the giants flowed 
Ifing, the great river on which ice never formed, and 
which the gods crossed on the rainbow bridge. But 
this was not protection enough. Their beautiful new 
city needed a fortress. 

So the word went forth in Asgard: “We must build 
us a fortress against the giants; the hugest, strongest, 
finest fortress that ever was built.” 

Now one day, soon after they had announced this 
decision, there came a mighty man stalking up the rain- 
bow bridge that led to Asgard city. 

“Who goes there!” cried Heimdal the watchman, 
whose eyes were so keen that he could see for a hundred 
miles around, and whose ears were so sharp that he 
could hear the grass growing in the meadow and the 
wool on the backs of the sheep. “Who goes there! No 
one can enter Asgard if I say no.” 


302 Myths Every Child Should Know 

“I am a builder,” said the stranger, who was a huge 
fellow with sleeves rolled up to show the iron muscles 
of his arms. “I am a builder of strong towers, and I 
have heard that the folk of Asgard need one to help 
them raise a fair fortress in their city.” 

Heimdal looked at the stranger narrowly, for there 
was that about him which his sharp eyes did not like. 
But he made no answer, only blew on his golden horn, 
which was so loud that it sounded through all the world. 
At this signal all the A£sir came running to the rainbow 
bridge, from wherever they happened to be, to find out 
who was coming to Asgard. For it was Heimdal’s duty 
ever to warn them of the approach of the unknown. 

“This fellow says he is a builder,” quoth Heimdal. 
“And he would fain build us a fortress in the city.” 

“Ay, that I would,” nodded the stranger. “Look at 
my iron arm ; look at my broad back ; look at my shoul- 
ders. Am I not the workman you need?” 

“Truly, he is a mighty figure,” vowed Odin, looking 
at him approvingly. “How long will it take you alone 
to build our fortress ? We can allow but one stranger 
at a time within our city, for safety’s sake.” 

“In three half-years,” replied the stranger, “I will 
undertake to build for you a castle so strong that not 
even the giants, should they swarm hither over Midgard 
— not even they could enter without your leave.” 

“Aha!” cried Father Odin, well pleased at this offer. 
“And what reward do you ask, friend, for help so 
timely?” 

The stranger hummed and hawed and pulled his long 
beard while he thought. Then he spoke suddenly, as if 
the idea had just come into his mind. “I will name my 
price, friends,” he said; “a small price for so great a 


The Giant Builder 


303 


deed. I ask you to give me Freia for my wife, and those 
two sparkling jewels, the Sun and Moon.” 

At this demand the gods looked grave; for Freia was 
their dearest treasure. She was the most beautiful maid 
who ever lived, the light and life of heaven, and if she 
should leave Asgard, joy would go with her; while the 
Sun and Moon were the light and life of the .Esir’s chil- 
dren, men, who lived in the little world below. But 
Loki the sly whispered that they would be safe enough 
if they made another condition on their part, so hard 
that the builder could not fulfil it. After thinking 
cautiously, he spoke for them all. 

“Mighty man,” quoth he, “we are willing to agree to 
your price — upon one condition. It is too long a time 
that you ask; we cannot wait three half-years for our 
castle; that is equal to three centuries when one is in a 
hurry. See that you finish the fort without help in one 
winter, one short winter, and you shall have fair Freia 
with the Sun and Moon. But if, on the first day of 
summer, one stone is wanting to the walls, or if anyone 
has given you aid in the building, then your reward is 
lost, and you shall depart without payment.” So spoke 
Loki, in the name of all the gods; but the plan was his 
own. 

At first the stranger shook his head and frowned, say- 
ing that in so short a time no one unaided could complete 
the undertaking. At last he made another offer. “Let 
me have but my good horse to help me, and I will try,” 
he urged. “Let me bring the useful Svadilfori with me 
to the task, and I will finish the work in one winter of 
short days, or lose my reward. Surely, you will 
not deny me this little help, from one four-footed 
friend.” 


304 Myths Every Child Should Know 

Then again the .Esir consulted, and the wiser of them 
were doubtful whether it were best to accept the stranger’s 
offer so strangely made. But again Loki urged them to 
accept. “Surely, there is no harm,” he said. “Even 
with his old horse to help him, he cannot build the castle 
in the promised time. We shall gain a fortress without 
trouble and with never a price to pay.” 

Loki was so eager that, although the other Esir did 
not like this crafty way of making bargains, they finally 
consented. Then in the presence of the heroes, with 
the Valkyries and Mimer’s head for witnesses, the 
stranger and the Esir gave solemn promise that the bar- 
gain should be kept. 

On the first day of winter the strange builder began 
his work, and wondrous was the way he set about it. 
His strength seemed as the strength of a hundred men. 
As for his horse Svadilfori, he did more work by half 
than even the mighty builder. In the night he dragged 
the enormous rocks that were to be used in building the 
castle, rocks as big as mountains of the earth; while in 
the daytime the stranger piled them into place with his 
iron arms. The Esir watched him with amazement; 
never was seen such strength in Asgard. Neither Tyr 
the stout nor Thor the strong could match the power 
of the stranger. The gods began to look at one another 
uneasily. Who was this mighty one who had come 
among them, and what if after all he should win his 
reward? Freia trembled in her palace, and the Sun 
and Moon grew dim with fear. 

Still the work went on, and the fort was piling higher 
and higher, by day and by night. There were but three 
days left before the end of winter, and already the building 
was so tall and so strong that it was safe from the attacks 


The Giant Builder 


3 6 5 


of any giant. The ^Esir were delighted with their fine 
new castle; but their pride was dimmed by the fear that 
it must be paid for at all too costly a price. For only 
the gateway remained to be completed, and unless the 
stranger should fail to finish that in the next three days, 
they must give him Freia with the Sun and Moon. 

The iEsir held a meeting upon Ida Plain, a meeting 
full of fear and anger. At last they realised what they 
had done; they had made a bargain with one of the 
giants, their enemies; and if he won the prize, it would 
mean sorrow and darkness in heaven and upon earth. 
“How did we happen to agree to so mad a bargain?” 
they asked one another. “Who suggested the wicked 
plan which bids fair to cost us all that we most cherish ? ” 
Then they remembered that it was Loki who had made 
the plan; it was he who had insisted that it be carried 
out; and they blamed him for all the trouble. 

“It is your counsels, Loki, that have brought this 
danger upon us,” quoth Father Odin, frowning. “You 
chose the way of guile, which is not our way. It now 
remains for you to help us by guile, if you can. But if 
you cannot save for us Freia and the Sun and Moon, 
you shall die. This is my word.” All the other ASsir 
agreed that this was just. Thor alone was away hunting 
evil demons at the other end of the world, so he did not 
know what was going on, and what dangers were threat- 
ening Asgard. 

Loki was much frightened at the word of All-Father. 
“It was my fault,” he cried, “but how was I to know 
that he was a giant? He had disguised himself so that 
he seemed but a strong man. And as for his horse — it 
looks much like that of other folk. If it were not for 
the horse, he could not finish the work. Ha! I have a 


306 Myths Every Child Should Know 

thought! The builder shall not finish the gate; the 
giant shall not receive his payment. I will cheat the 
fellow.” 

Now it was the last night of winter, and there remained 
but a few stones to put in place on the top of the wondrous 
gateway. The giant was sure of his prize, and chuckled 
to himself as he went out with his horse , to drag the 
remaining stones; for he did not know that the JEsir 
had guessed at last who he was, and that Loki was plotting 
to outwit him. Hardly had he gone to work when out 
of the wood came running a pretty little mare, who 
neighed to Svadilfori as if inviting the tired horse to 
leave his work and come to the green fields for a 
holiday. 

Svadilfori, you must remember, had been working 
hard all winter, with never a sight of four-footed creature 
of his kind, and he was very lonesome and tired of drag- 
ging stones. Giving a snort of disobedience, off he ran 
after this new friend toward the grassy meadows. Off 
went the giant after him, howling with rage, and running 
for dear life, as he saw not only his horse but his chance 
of success slipping out of reach. It was a mad chase, 
and all Asgard thundered with the noise of galloping 
hoofs and the giant’s mighty tread. The mare who 
raced ahead was Loki in disguise, and he led 
Svadilfori far out of reach, to a hidden meadow 
that he knew; so that the giant howled and panted up 
and down all night long, without catching even a sight 
of his horse. 

Now when the morning came the gateway was still 
unfinished, and night and winter had ended at the same 
hour. The giant’s time was over, and he had forfeited 
his reward. The JEsir came flocking to the gateway, 


The Giant Builder 


307 

and how they laughed and triumphed when they found 
three stones wanting to complete the gate! 

“You have failed, fellow,” judged Father Odin sternly, 
“and no price shall we pay for work that is still undone. 
You have failed. Leave Asgard quickly; we have seen 
all we want of you and of your race.” 

Then the giant knew that he was discovered, and he 
was mad with rage. “It was a trick!” he bellowed, 
assuming his own proper form, which was huge as a 
mountain, and towered high beside the fortress that he 
had built. “It was a wicked trick. You shall pay for 
this in one way or another. I cannot tear down the castle 
which, ungrateful ones, I have built you, stronger than 
the strength of any giant. But I will demolish the rest 
of your shining city!” Indeed, he would have done so 
in his mighty rage; but at this moment Thor, whom 
Heimdal had called from the end of the earth by one 
blast of the golden horn, came rushing to the rescue, 
drawn in his chariot of goats. Thor jumped to the 
ground close beside the giant, and before that huge 
fellow knew what had happened, his head was rolling 
upon the ground at Father Odin’s feet; for with one 
blow Thor had put an end to the giant’s wickedness and 
had saved Asgard. 

“This is the reward you deserve!” Thor cried. “Not 
Freia nor the Sun and Moon, but the death that I have 
in store for all the enemies of the iLsir.” 

In this extraordinary way the noble city of Asgard 
was made safe and complete by the addition of a fortress 
which no one, not even the giant who built it, could 
injure, it was so wonder-strong. But always at the top 
of the gate were lacking three great stones that no one 
was mighty enough to lift. This was a reminder to the 


3°8 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


iEsir that now they had the race of giants for their ever- 
lasting enemies. And though Loki’s trick had saved 
them Freia, and for the world the Sun and Moon, it 
was the beginning of trouble in Asgard which lasted as 
long as Loki lived to make mischief with his guile. 


CHAPTER XII 


HOW ODIN LOST HIS EYE* 

In the beginning of things, before there was any world 
or sun, moon, and stars, there were the giants; for these 
were the oldest creatures that ever breathed. They 
lived in Jotunheim, the land of frost and darkness, and 
their hearts were evil. Next came the gods, the good 
iEsir, who made earth and sky and sea, and who dwelt 
in Asgard, above the heavens. Then were created the 
queer little dwarfs, who lived underground in the caverns 
of the mountains, working at their mines of metal and 
precious stones. Last of all, the gods made men to 
dwell in Midgard, the good world that we know, between 
which and the glorious home of the .Esir stretched Bifrost, 
the bridge of rainbows. 

In those days, folk say, there was a mighty ash tree 
named Yggdrasil, so vast that its branches shaded the 
whole earth and stretched up into heaven where the 
Esir dwelt, while its roots sank far down below the 
lowest depth. In the branches of the big ash tree 
lived a queer family of creatures. First, there was a 
great eagle, who was wiser than any bird that ever 
lived — except the two ravens, Thought and Memory, 
who sat upon Father Odin’s shoulders and told him the 
secrets which they learned in their flight over the wide 
world. Near the great eagle perched a hawk, and four 

* Copyright by Houghton, Mifflin & Co. Permission to reprint obtained. 

309 


310 Myths Every Child Should Know 

antlered deer browsed among the buds of Yggdrasil. 
At the foot of the tree coiled a huge serpent, who was 
always gnawing hungrily at its roots, with a whole colony 
of little snakes to keep him company — so many that 
they could never be counted. The eagle at the top of 
the tree and the serpent at its foot were enemies, always 
saying hard things of each other. Between the two 
skipped up and down a little squirrel, a tale bearer and 
a gossip, who repeated each unkind remark and, like 
the malicious neighbour that he was, kept their quarrel 
ever fresh and green. 

In one place at the roots of Yggdrasil was a fair foun- 
tain called the Urdar-well, where the three Norn maidens, 
who knew the past, present, and future, dwelt with their 
pets, the two white swans. This was magic water in 
the fountain, which the Norns sprinkled every day upon 
the giant tree to keep it green — water so sacred that 
everything which entered it became white as the film 
of an eggshell. Close beside this sacred well the .Esir 
had their council hall, to which they galloped every 
morning over the rainbow bridge. 

But Father Odin, the king of all the Esir, knew of 
another fountain more wonderful still; the two ravens 
whom he sent forth to bring him news had told him. 
This also was below the roots of Yggdrasil, in the spot 
where the sky and ocean met. Here for centuries and 
centuries the giant Mimer had sat keeping guard over 
his hidden well, in the bottom of which lay such a treasure 
of wisdom as was to be found nowhere else in the world. 
Every morning Mimer dipped his glittering horn Gioll 
into the fountain and drew out a draught of the wondrous 
water, which he drank to make him wise. Every day 
he grew wiser and wiser; and as this had been going on 


How Odin Lost His Eye 


3ii 

ever since the beginning of things, you can scarcely 
imagine how wise Mimer was. 

Now it did not seem right to Father Odin that a giant 
should have all this wisdom to himself; for the giants 
were the enemies of the iEsir, and the wisdom which 
they had been hoarding for ages before the gods were 
made was generally used for evil purposes. Moreover, 
Odin longed and longed to become the wisest being in 
the world. So he resolved to win a draught from Mimer’s 
well, if in any way that could be done. 

One night, when the sun had set behind the mountains 
of Midgard, Odin put on his broad-brimmed hat and 
his striped cloak, and taking his famous staff in his hand, 
trudged down the long bridge to where it ended by 
Mimer’s secret grotto. 

“Good-day, Mimer,” said Odin, entering; “I have 
come for a drink from your well.” 

The giant was sitting with his knees drawn up to his 
chin, his long white beard falling over his folded arms, 
and his head nodding; for Mimer was very old, and he 
often fell asleep while watching over his precious spring. 
He woke with a frown at Odin’s words. “You want 
a drink from my well, do you?” he growled. “Hey! 
I let no one drink from my well.” 

“Nevertheless, you must let me have a draught from 
your glittering horn,” insisted Odin, “arid I will pay 
you for it.” 

“ Oho, you will pay me for it, will you ? ” echoed Mimer, 
eyeing his visitor keenly. For now that he was wide 
awake, his wisdom taught him that this was no ordinary 
stranger. “What will you pay for a drink from my 
well, and why do you wish it so much ? ” 

“I can see with my eyes all that goes on in heaven 


3 12 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


and upon earth,” said Odin, “but I cannot see into the 
depths of ocean. I lack the hidden wisdom of the deep 
— the wit that lies at the bottom of your fountain. My 
ravens tell me many secrets; but I would know all. 
And as for payment, ask what you will, and I will pledge 
anything in return for the draught of wisdom.” 

Then Mimer’s keen glance grew keener. “You are 
Odin, of the race of gods,” he cried. “We giants are 
centuries older than you, and our wisdom which we 
have treasured during these ages, when we were the only 
creatures in all space, is a precious thing. If I grant 
you a draught from my well, you will become as one of 
us, a wise and dangerous enemy. It is a goodly price, 
Odin, which I shall demand for a boon so great.” 

Now Odin was growing impatient for the sparkling 
water. “Ask your price,” he frowned. “I have prom- 
ised that I will pay.” 

“What say you, then, to leaving one of those far- 
seeing eyes of yours at the bottom of my well?” asked 
Mimer, hoping that he would refuse the bargain. “This 
is the only payment I will take.” 

Odin hesitated. It was indeed a heavy price, and one 
that he could ill afford, for he was proud of his noble 
beauty. But he glanced at the magic fountain bubbling 
mysteriously in the shadow, and he knew that he must 
have the draught. 

“Give me the glittering horn,” he answered. “I 
pledge you my eye for a draught to the brim.” 

Very unwillingly Mimer filled the horn from the 
fountain of wisdom and handed it to Odin. “Drink, 
then,” he said; “drink and grow wise. This hour is 
the beginning of trouble between your race and mine,” 
And wise Mimer foretold the truth.. 


How Odin Lost His Eye 


3i3 


Odin thought merely of the wisdom which was to be 
his. He seized the horn eagerly, and emptied it without 
delay. From that moment he became wiser than any- 
one else in the world except Mimer himself. 

Now he had the price to pay, which was not so pleasant. 
When he went away from the grotto, he left at the bottom 
of the dark pool one of his fiery eyes, which twinkled 
and winked up through the magic depths like the reflec- 
tion of a star. This is how Odin lost his eye, and why 
from that day he was careful to pull his gray hat low 
over his face when he wanted to pass unnoticed. For 
by this oddity folk could easily recognise the wise lord of 
Asgard. 

In the bright morning, when the sun rose over the 
mountains of Midgard, old Mimer drank from his 
bubbly well a draught of the wise water that flowed over 
Odin’s pledge. Doing so, from his underground grotto 
he saw all that befell in heaven and on earth. So that 
he also was wiser by the bargain. Mimer seemed to 
have secured rather the best of it; for he lost nothing 
that he could not spare, while Odin lost what no man 
can well part with — one of the good windows where- 
through his heart looks out upon the world. But there 
was a sequel to these doings which made the balance 
swing down in Odin’s favour. 

Not long after this, the ASsir quarrelled with the Vanir, 
wild enemies of theirs, and there was a terrible battle. 
But in the end the two sides made peace; and to prove 
that they meant never to quarrel again, they exchanged 
hostages. The Vanir gave to the A£sir old Niord the 
rich, the lord of the sea and the ocean wind, with his 
two children, Frey and Freia. This was indeed a gra- 
cious gift; for Freia was the most beautiful maid in the 


3 r 4 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


world, and her twin brother was almost as fair. To the 
Vanir in return Father Odin gave his own brother Hoenir. 
And with Hoenir he sent Mimer the wise, whom he took 
from his lonely well. 

Now the Vanir made Hoenir their chief, thinking that 
he must be very wise because he was the brother of great 
Odin, who had lately become famous for his wisdom. 
They did not know the secret of Mimer’s well, how the 
hoary old giant was far more wise than anyone who 
had not quaffed of the magic water. It is true that in the 
assemblies of the Vanir Hoenir gave excellent counsel. 
But this was because Mimer whispered in Hoenir’s ear 
all the wisdom that he uttered. Witless Hoenir was quite 
helpless without his aid, and did not know what to do 
or say. Whenever Mimer was absent he would look 
nervous and frightened, and if folk questioned him he 
always answered: 

“Yes, ah yes! Now go and consult someone else.” 

Of course the Vanir soon grew very angry at such 
silly answers from their chief, and presently they began 
to suspect the truth. “Odin has deceived us,” they 
said. “He has sent us his foolish brother with a witch 
to tell him what to say. Ha! We will show him that we 
understand the trick.” So they cut off poor old Mimer’s 
head and sent it to Odin as a present. 

The tales do not say what Odin thought of the gift. 
Perhaps he was glad that now there was no one in the 
whole world who could be called so wise as himself. 
Perhaps he was sorry for the danger into which he 
had thrust a poor old giant who had never done him any 
wrong, except to be a giant of the race which the JEsir 
hated. Perhaps he was a little ashamed of the trick 
which he had played the Vanir. Odin’s new wisdom 


How Odin Lost His Eye 315 

showed him how to prepare Mimer’s head with herbs 
and charms, so that it stood up by itself quite naturally 
and seemed not dead. Thenceforth Odin kept it near 
him, and learned from it many useful secrets which it had 
not forgotten. 

So in the end Odin fared better than the unhappy 
Mimer, whose worst fault was that he knew more than 
most folk. That is a dangerous fault, as others have 
found; though it is not one for which many of us need 
fear being punished. 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE QUEST OF THE HAMMER 

One morning Thor the Thunderer awoke with a 
yawn, and stretching out his knotted arm, felt for his 
precious hammer, which he kept always under his 
pillow of clouds. But he started up with a roar of rage, 
so that all the palace trembled. The hammer was 
gone! 

Now this was a very serious matter, for Thor was the 
protector of Asgard, and Miolnir, the magic hammer 
which the dwarf had made, was his mighty weapon, of 
which the enemies of the .Esir stood so much in dread 
that they dared not venture near. But if they should 
learn that Miolnir was gone, who could tell what danger 
might not threaten the palaces of heaven ? 

Thor darted his flashing eye into every corner of 
Cloud Land in search of the hammer. He called his 
fair wife, Sif of the golden hair, to aid in the search, and 
his two lovely daughters, Thrude and Lora. They 
hunted and they hunted; they turned Thrudheim upside 
down, and set the clouds to rolling wonderfully, as they 
peeped and pried behind and around and under each 
billowy mass. But Miolnir was not to be found. Cer- 
tainly, someone had stolen it. 

Thor’s yellow beard quivered with rage, and his hair 
bristled on end like the golden rays of a star, while all his 
household trembled. 

316 


The Quest oj the Hammer 317 

“It is Loki again!” he cried. “I am sure Loki is at 
the bottom of this mischief!” For since the time when 
Thor had captured Loki for the dwarf Brock and had 
given him over to have his bragging lips sewed up, Loki 
had looked at him with evil eyes; and Thor knew that the 
red rascal hated him most of all the gods. 

But this time Thor was mistaken. It was not Loki 
who had stolen the hammer — he was too great a coward 
for that. And though he meant, before the end, to be 
revenged upon Thor, he was waiting until a safe chance 
should come, when Thor himself might stumble into 
danger, and Loki need only to help the evil by a malicious 
word or two; and this chance came later, as you shall 
hear in another tale. 

Meanwhile Loki was on his best behaviour, trying to 
appear very kind and obliging ; so when Thor came rum- 
bling and roaring up to him, demanding, “What have you 
done with my hammer, you thief?” Loki looked sur- 
prised, but did not lose his temper nor answer rudely. 

“Have you indeed missed your hammer, brother 
Thor?” he said, mumbling, for his mouth was still sore 
where Brock had sewed the stitches. “That is a pity; 
for if the giants hear of this, they will be coming to try 
their might against Asgard.” 

“Hush!” muttered Thor, grasping him by the shoulder 
with his iron fingers. “That is what I fear. But 
look you, Loki: I suspect your hand in the mischief. 
Come, confess.” 

Then Loki protested that he had nothing to do with 
so wicked a deed. “But,” he added wheedlingly, “I 
thii^Jc I can guess the thief; and because I love you, Thor, 
I will help you to find him.” 

“Humph!” growled Thor. “Much love you bear to 


318 Myths Every Child Should Know 

me! However, you are a wise rascal, the nimblest wit 
of all the iEsir, and it is better to have you on my side than 
on the other, when giants are in the game. Tell me, then: 
who has robbed the Thunder Lord of his bolt of power ? ” 

Loki drew near and whispered in Thor’s ear. “Look, 
how the storms rage and the winds howl in the world 
below! Someone is wielding your thunder hammer all 
unskilfully. Can you not guess the thief? Who but 
Thrym, the mighty giant who has ever been your enemy 
and your imitator, and whose fingers have long itched 
to grasp the short handle of mighty Miolnir, that the 
world may name him Thunder Lord instead of you. 
But look ! What a tempest ! The world will be shattered 
into fragments unless we soon get the hammer back.” 

Then Thor roared with rage. “I will seek this 
impudent Thrym!” he cried. “I will crush him into 
bits, and teach him to meddle with the weapon of the 
^sir!” 

“Softly, softly,” said Loki, smiling maliciously. 
“He is a shrewd giant, and a mighty. Even you, great 
Thor, cannot go to him and pluck the hammer from his 
hand as one would slip the rattle from a baby’s pink fist. 
Nay, you must use craft, Thor; and it is I who will teach 
you, if you will be patient.” 

Thor was a brave, blunt fellow, and he hated the ways 
of Loki, his lies and his deceit. He liked best the way of 
warriors— the thundering charge, the flash of weapons, 
and the heavy blow; but without the hammer he could 
not fight the giants hand to hand. Loki’s advice seemed 
wise, and he decided to leave the matter to the Red One. 

Loki was now all eagerness, for he loved difficulties 
which would set his wit in play and bring other folk into 
danger. “Look, now,” he said. “We must go to 


The Quest o] the Hammer 319 

Freia and borrow her falcon dress. But you must ask; 
for she loves me so little that she would scarce listen to 
me.” 

So first they made their way to Folkvang, the house 
of maidens, where Freia dwelt, the loveliest of all in 
Asgard. She was fairer than fair, and sweeter than 
sweet, and the tears from her flower eyes made the dew 
which blessed the earth flowers night and morning. 
Of her Thor borrowed the magic dress of feathers in which 
Freia was wont to clothe herself and flit like a great 
beautiful bird all about the world. She was willing 
enough to lend it to Thor when he told her that by its 
aid he hoped to win back the hammer which he had lost ; 
for she well knew the danger threatening herself and all 
the ^Esir until Miolnir should be found. 

“Now will I fetch the hammer for you,” said Loki. 
So he put on the falcon plumage, and, spreading his 
brown wings, flapped away up, up, over the world, down, 
down, across the great ocean which lies beyond all things 
that men know. And he came to the dark country 
where there was no sunshine nor spring, but it was always 
dreary winter; where mountains were piled up like 
blocks of ice, and where great caverns yawned hungrily 
in blackness. And this was Jotunheim, the land of the 
Frost Giants. 

And lo! when Loki came thereto he found Thrym the 
Giant King sitting outside his palace cave, playing with 
his dogs and horses. The dogs were as big as elephants, 
and the horses were as big as houses, but Thrym himself 
was as huge as a mountain; and Loki trembled, but he 
tried to seem brave. 

“Good-day, Loki,” said Thrym, with the terrible voice 
of which he was so proud, for he fancied it was as loud as 


320 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


Thor’s. “How fares it, feathered one, with your little 
brothers, the ^Lsir, in Asgard halls ? And how dare you 
venture alone in this guise to Giant Land ? ” 

“It is an ill day in Asgard,” sighed Loki, keeping his 
eye warily upon the giant, “and a stormy one in the 
world of men. I heard the winds howling and the 
storms rushing on the earth as I passed by. Some 
mighty one has stolen the hammer of our Thor. Is it 
you, Thrym, greatest of all giants — greater than Thor 
himself ? ” 

This the crafty one said to flatter Thrym, for Loki 
well knew the weakness of those who love to be thought 
greater than they are. 

Then Thrym bridled and swelled with pride, and tried 
to put on the majesty and awe of noble Thor; but he only 
succeeded in becoming an ugly, puffy monster. 

“Well, yes,” he admitted. “I have the hammer that 
belonged to your little Thor; and now how much of a 
lord is he?” 

“Alack!” sighed Loki again, “weak enough he is 
without his magic weapon. But you, O Thrym — surely 
your mightiness needs no such aid. Give me the hammer, 
that Asgard may no longer be shaken by Thor’s grief for 
his precious toy.” 

But Thrym was not so easily to be flattered into parting 
with his stolen treasure. He grinned a dreadful grin, 
several yards in width, which his teeth barred like jagged 
boulders across the entrance to a mountain cavern. 

“Miolnir the hammer is mine,” he said, “and I am 
Thunder Lord, mightiest of the mighty. I have hidden 
it where Thor can never find it, twelve leagues below the 
sea caves, where Queen Ran lives with her daughters, 
the white-capped Waves. But listen, Loki. Go tell 


The Quest of the Hammer 


321 


the .Esir that I will give back Thor’s hammer. I will 
give it back upon one condition — that they send Freia 
the beautiful to be my wife.” 

“ Freia the beautiful!” Loki had to stifle a laugh. 
Fancy the Esir giving their fairest flower to such an 
ugly fellow as this! But he only said politely, “Ah, yes; 
you demand our Freia in exchange for the little hammer? 
It is a costly price, great Thrym. But I will be your 
friend in Asgard. If I have my way, you shall soon see 
the fairest bride in all the world knocking at your door. 
Farewell!” 

So Loki whizzed back to Asgard on his falcon wings; 
and as he went he chuckled to think of the evils which 
were likely to happen because of his words with Thrym. 
First he gave the message to Thor — not sparing of 
Thrym’s insolence, to make Thor angry; and then he 
went to Freia with the word for her — not sparing of 
Thrym’s ugliness, to make her shudder. The spiteful 
fellow! 

Now you can imagine the horror that was in Asgard as 
the Esir listened to Loki’s words. “My hammer!” 
roared Thor. “The villain confesses that he has stolen 
my hammer, and boasts that he is Thunder Lord! 
Gr-r-r!” 

“The ugly giant ! ” wailed Freia. “ Must I be the bride 
of that hideous old monster, and live in his gloomy moun- 
tain prison all my life ? ” 

“Yes; put on your bridal veil, sweet Freia,” said Loki 
maliciously, “and come with me to Jotunheim. Hang 
your famous starry necklace about your neck, and don 
your bravest robe; for in eight days there will be a 
wedding, and Thor’s hammer is to pay.” 

Then Freia fell to weeping. “I cannot go! I will not 


322 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


go!” she cried. “I will not leave the home of gladness 
and Father Odin’s table to dwell in the land of horrors! 
Thor’s hammer is mighty, but mightier the love of the 
kind y£sir for their little Freia ! Good Odin, dear brother 
Frey, speak for me ! You will not make me go ? ” 

The y£sir looked at her and thought how lonely and 
bare would Asgard he without her loveliness; for she was 
fairer than fair, and sweeter than sweet. 

“She shall not go!” shouted Frey, putting his arms 
about his sister’s neck. 

“No, she shall tiot go!” cried all the ^Fsir with one 
voice. 

“But my hammer,” insisted Thor. “I must have 
Miolnir back again.” 

“And my word to Thrym,” said Loki, “that must be 
made good.” 

“You are too generous with your words,” said Father 
Odin sternly, for he knew his brother well. “Your word 
is not a gem of great price, for you have made it cheap.” 

Then spoke Heimdal, the sleepless watchman who 
sits on guard at the entrance to the rainbow bridge 
which leads to Asgard; and Heimdal was the wisest of 
the iFsir, for he could see into the future, and knew 
how things would come to pass. Through his golden 
teeth he spoke, for his teeth were all of gold. 

“I have a plan,” he said. “Let us dress Thor himself 
like a bride in Freia’s robes, and send him to Jotunheim 
to talk with Thrym and to win back his hammer.” 

But at this word Thor grew very angry. “What! 
dress me like a girl!” he roared. “I should never hear 
the last of it! The A£sir will mock me, and call me 
‘maiden’! The giants, and even the puny dwarfs, 
will have a lasting jest upon me! I will not go! I will 


The Quest of the Hammer 


323 

fight! I will die, if need be! But dressed as a woman I 
will not go!” 

But Loki answered him with sharp words, for this was 
a scheme after his own heart. “What, Thor!” he said. 
“Would you lose your hammer and keep Asgard in 
danger for so small a whim Look, now: if you go not, 
Thrym with his giants will come in a mighty army and 
drive us from Asgard; then he will indeed make Freia 
his bride, and, moreover, he will have you for his slave 
under the power of his hammer. How like you this 
picture, brother of the thunder? Nay, Heimdal’s plan 
is a good one, and I myself will help to carry it out.” 

Still Thor hesitated; but Freia came and laid her 
white hand on his arm, and looked up into his scowling 
face pleadingly. 

“To save me, Thor,” she begged. And Thor said 
he would go. 

Then there was great sport among the A£sir, while they 
dressed Thor like a beautiful maiden. Brunhilde and 
her sisters, the nine Valkyrie, daughters of Odin, had the 
task in hand. How they laughed as they brushed and 
curled his yellow hair, and set upon it the wondrous 
headdress of silk and pearls! They let out seams, and 
they let down hems, and set on extra pieces, to make it 
larger, and so they hid his great limbs and knotted arms 
under Freia’s fairest robe of scarlet; but beneath it all he 
would wear his shirt of mail and his belt of power that 
gave him double strength. Freia herself twisted about 
his neck her famous necklace of starry jewels, and Queen 
Frigg, his mother, hung at his girdle a jingling bunch of 
keys, such as was the custom for the bride to wear at 
Norse weddings. Last of all, that Thrym might not see 
Thor’s fierce eyes and the yellow beard, that ill became 


324 Myths Every Child Should Know 

a maiden, they threw over him a long veil of silver white 
which covered him to the feet. And there he stood, as 
stately and tall a bride as even a giant might wish to see; 
but on his hands he wore his iron gloves, and they ached 
for but one thing — to grasp the handle of the stolen 
hammer. 

“Ah, what a lovely maid it is!” chuckled Loki; “and 
how glad will Thrym be to see this Freia come! Bride 
Thor, I will go with you as your handmaiden, for I 
would fain see the fun.” 

“Come, then,” said Thor sulkily, for he was ill pleased, 
and wore his maiden robes with no good grace. “It is 
fitting that you go ; for I like not these lies and maskings, 
and I may spoil the mummery without you at my 
elbow.” 

There was loud laughter above the clouds when Thor, 
all veiled and dainty seeming, drove away from Asgard 
to his wedding, with maid Loki by his side. Thor 
cracked his whip and chirruped fiercely to his twin goats 
with golden hoofs, for he wanted to escape the sounds of 
mirth that echoed from the rainbow bridge, where all 
the Aisir stood watching. Loki, sitting with his hands 
meekly folded like a girl, chuckled as he glanced up at 
Thor’s angry face; but he said nothing, for he knew it 
was not good to joke too far with Thor, even when 
Miolnir was hidden twelve leagues below the sea in 
Ran’s kingdom. 

So off they dashed to Jotunheim, where Thrym was 
waiting and longing for his beautiful bride. Thor’s 
goats thundered along above the sea and land and people 
far below, who looked up wondering as the noise rolled 
overhead. “Hear how the thunder rumbles!” they said. 
“Thor is on a long journey to-night.” And a long jour- 


The Quest of the Hammer 


325 

ney it was, as the tired goats found before they reached 
the end. 

Thrym heard the sound of their approach, for his ear 
was eager. “Hola!” he cried. “Someone is coming 
from Asgard — only one of Odin’s children could make 
a din so fearful. Hasten, men, and see if they are bring- 
ing Freia to be my wife.” 

Then the lookout giant stepped down from the top 
of his mountain, and said that a chariot was bringing 
two maidens to the door. 

“Run, giants, run!” shouted Thrym, in a fever at 
this news. “My bride is coming! Put silken cushions 
on the benches for a great banquet, and make the house 
beautiful for the fairest maid in all space! Bring in 
all my golden-horned cows and my coal-black oxen, 
that she may see how rich I am, and heap all my gold 
and jewels about to dazzle her sweet eyes! She shall 
find me richest of the rich ; and when I have her — fairest 
of the fair — there will be no treasure that I lack — not 
one!” 

The chariot stopped at the gate, and out stepped the 
tall bride, hidden from head to foot, and her handmaiden 
muffled to the chin. “How afraid of catching cold they 
must be!” whispered the giant ladies, who were peering 
over one another’s shoulders to catch a glimpse of the 
bride, just as the crowd outside the awning does at a 
wedding nowadays. 

Thrym had sent six splendid servants to escort the 
maidens: these were the Metal Kings, who served him 
as lord of them all. There was the Gold King, all in 
cloth of gold, with fringes of yellow bullion, most glitter- 
ing to see; and there was the Silver King, almost as 
gorgeous in a suit of spangled white; and side by side 


326 Myths Every Child Should Know 

bowed the dark Kings of Iron and Lead, the one mighty 
in black, the other sullen in blue; and after them were 
the Copper King, gleaming ruddy and brave, and the 
Tin King, strutting in his trimmings of gaudy tinsel 
which looked nearly as well as silver, but were more 
economical. And this fine troop of lackey kings most 
politely led Thor and Loki into the palace, and gave 
them of the best, for they never suspected who these 
seeming maidens really were. 

And when evening came there was a wonderful banquet 
to celebrate the wedding. On a golden throne sat 
Thrym, uglier than ever in his finery of purple and gold. 
Beside him was the bride, of whose face no one had yet 
caught even a glimpse; and at Thrym’s other hand stood 
Loki, the waiting maid, for he wanted to be near to mend 
the mistakes which Thor might make. 

Now the dishes at the feast were served in a huge way, 
as befitted the table of giants: great beeves roasted 
whole, on platters as wide across as a ship’s deck; plum 
puddings as fat as feather beds, with plums as big as 
footballs; and a wedding cake like a snow-capped hay 
mow. The giants ate enormously. But to Thor, 
because they thought him a dainty maiden, they served 
small bits of everything on a tiny gold dish. Now Thor’s 
long journey had made him very hungry, and through 
his veil he whispered to Loki, “I shall starve, Loki! I 
cannot fare on these nibbles. I must eat a goodly meal 
as I do at home.” And forthwith he helped himself 
to such morsels as might satisfy his hunger for a little 
time. You should have seen the giants stare at the meal 
which the dainty bride devoured! 

For first under the silver veil disappeared by pieces a 
whole roast ox. Then Thor made eight mouthfuls of 


The Quest oj the Hammer 327 

eight pink salmon, a dish of which he was very fond. 
And next he looked about and reached for a platter of 
cakes and sweetmeats that was set aside at one end of 
the table for the lady guests, and the bride ate them all. 
You can fancy how the damsels drew down their mouths 
and looked at one another when they saw their dessert 
disappear; and they whispered about the table, “Alack! 
if our future mistress is to sup like this day by day, 
there will be poor cheer for the rest of us!” And to 
crown it all, Thor was thirsty, as well he might be; and 
one after another he raised to his lips and emptied three 
great barrels of mead, the foamy drink of the giants. 
Then indeed Thrym was amazed, for Thor’s giant appe- 
tite had beaten that of the giants themselves. 

“Never before saw I a bride so hungry,” he cried, 
“and never before one half so thirsty!” 

But Loki, the waiting maid, whispered to him softly, 
“The truth is, great Thrym, that my dear mistress was 
almost starved. For eight days Freia has eaten nothing 
at all, so eager was she for Jotunheim.” 

Then Thrym was delighted, you may be sure. He 
forgave his hungry bride, and loved her with all his 
heart. He leaned forward to give her a kiss, raising a 
corner of her veil; but his hand dropped suddenly, and 
he started up in terror, for he had caught the angry 
flash of Thor’s eye, which was glaring at him 
through the bridal veil. Thor was longing for his 
hammer. 

“Why has Freia so sharp a look?” Thrym cried. 
“It pierces like lightning and burns like fire.” 

But again the sly waiting maid whispered timidly, 
“Oh, Thrym, be not amazed! The truth is, my poor 
mistress’s eyes are red with wakefulness and bright 


328 Myths Every Child Should Know 

with longing. For eight nights Freia has not known a 
wink of sleep, so eager was she for Jotunheim. J, 

Then again Thrym was doubly delighted, and he longed 
to call her his very own dear wife. “Bring in the wedding 
gift!” he cried. “Bring in Thor’s hammer, Miolnir, 
and give it to Freia, as I promised ; for when I have kept 
my word she will be mine — all mine ! ” 

Then Thor’s big heart laughed under his woman’s 
dress, and his fierce eyes swept eagerly down the hall 
to meet the servant who was bringing in the hammer 
on a velvet cushion. Thor’s fingers could hardly 
wait to clutch the stubby handle which they knew so 
well; but he sat quite still on the throne beside ugly old 
Thrym, with his hands meekly folded and his head 
bowed like a bashful bride. 

The giant servant drew nearer, nearer, puffing and 
blowing, strong though he was, beneath the mighty 
weight. He was about to lay it at Thor’s feet (for he 
thought it so heavy that no maiden could lift it or hold 
it in her lap), when suddenly Thor’s heart swelled, and 
he gave a most unmaidenly shout of rage and triumph. 
With one swoop he grasped the hammer in his iron 
fingers; with the other arm he tore off the veil that hid 
his terrible face, and trampled it under foot; then he 
turned to the frightened king, who cowered beside him 
on the throne. 

“ Thief ! ” he cried. “Freia sends you this as a wedding 
gift!” And he whirled the hammer about his head, 
then hurled it once, twice, thrice, as it rebounded to his 
hand; and in the first stroke, as of lightning, Thrym 
rolled dead from his throne; in the second stroke per- 
ished the whole giant household — these ugly enemies of 
the iEsir; and in the third stroke the palace itself tumbled 


The Quest of the Hammer 329 

together and fell to the ground like a toppling playhouse 
of blocks. 

But Loki and Thor stood safely among the ruins, 
dressed in their tattered maiden robes, a quaint and 
curious sight; and Loki, full of mischief now as ever, 
burst out laughing. 

“Oh, Thor! if you could see — ” he began; but Thor 
held up his hammer and shook it gently as he said: 

“Look now, Loki: it was an excellent joke, and so 
far you have done well — after your crafty fashion, which 
likes me not. But now I have my hammer again, and 
the joke is done. From you, nor from another, I bmok 
no laughter at my expense. Henceforth we will have no 
mention of this masquerade, nor of these rags which now 
I throw away. Do you hear, red laughter ?” 

And Loki heard, with a look of hate, and stifled his 
laughter as best he could; for it is not good to laugh 
at him who holds the hammer. 

Not once after that was there mention in Asgard of 
the time when Thor dressed him as a girl and won his 
bridal gift from Thrym the giant. 

But Miolnir was safe once more in Asgard, and you 
and I know how it came there; so someone must have 
told. I wonder if red Loki whispered the tale to some 
outsider, after all? Perhaps it may be so, for now he 
knew how best to make Thor angry; and from that day 
when Thor forbade his laughing, Loki hated him with 
the mean little hatred of a mean little soul. 


CHAPTER XIV 


THE APPLES OF IDUN 

Once upon a time Odin, Loki, and Hcener started 
on a journey. They had often travelled together before 
on all sorts of errands, for they had a great many things 
to look after, and more than once they had fallen into 
trouble through the prying, meddlesome, malicious spirit 
of Loke, who was never so happy as when he was doing 
wrong. When the gods went on a journey they trav- 
elled fast and hard, for they were strong, active spirits 
who loved nothing so much as hard work, hard blows, 
storm, peril, and struggle. There were no roads through 
the country over which they made their way, only high 
mountains to be climbed by rocky paths, deep valleys 
into wdiich the sun hardly looked during half the year, 
and swift-rushing streams, cold as ice, and treacherous 
to the surest foot and the strongest arm. Not a bird 
flew through the air, not an animal sprang through the 
trees. It was as still as a desert. The gods walked 
on and on, getting more tired and hungry at 
every step. The sun was sinking low over the 
steep, pine-crested mountains, and the travellers 
had neither breakfasted nor dined. Even Odin was 
beginning to feel the pangs of hunger, like the 
most ordinary mortal, when suddenly, entering a little 
valley, the famished gods came upon a herd of 
cattle. It was the w r ork of a minute to kill a 


330 


The Apples of I dun 


33i 


great ox and to have the carcass swinging in a 
huge pot over a roaring fire. 

But never were gods so unlucky before! In spite of 
their hunger, the pot would not boil. They piled on 
the wood until the great flames crackled and licked the 
pot with their fiery tongues, but every time the cover was 
lifted there was the meat just as raw as when it was put 
in. It is easy to imagine that the travellers were not in 
very good humour. As they were talking about it, and 
wondering how it could be, a voice called out from the 
branches of the oak overhead, “If you will give me my 
fill, I’ll make the pot boil. ,, 

The gods looked first at each other and then into 
the tree, and there they discovered a great eagle. They 
were glad enough to get their supper on almost any 
terms, so they told the eagle he might have what he 
wanted if he would only get the meat cooked. The bird 
was as good as his word, and in less time than it takes 
to tell it supper was ready. Then the eagle flew down 
and picked out both shoulders and both legs. This was 
a pretty large share, it must be confessed, and Loki, 
who was always angry when anybody got more than he, 
no sooner saw what the eagle had taken, than he seized 
a great pole and began to beat the rapacious bird unmerci- 
fully. Whereupon a very singular thing happened, as 
singular things always used to happen when the gods 
were concerned: the pole stuck fast in the huge talons 
of the eagle at one end, and Loki stuck fast at the other 
end. Struggle as he might, he could not get loose, and 
as the great bird sailed away over the tops of the trees, 
Loki went pounding along on the ground, striking against 
rocks and branches until he was bruised half to death. 

The eagle was not an ordinary bird by any means, as 


332 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


Loki soon found when he begged for mercy. The giant 
Thjasse happened to be flying abroad in his eagle plu- 
mage when the hungry travellers came under the oak and 
tried to cook the ox. It was into his hands that Loki 
had fallen, and he was not to get away until he had 
promised to pay roundly for his freedom. 

If there was one thing which the gods prized above 
their other treasures in Asgard, it was the beautiful fruit 
of Idun, kept by the goddess in a golden casket and 
given to the gods to keep them forever young and fair. 
Without these Apples all their power could not have 
kept them from getting old like the meanest of mortals. 
Without these Apples of Idun, Asgard itself would have 
lost its charm; for what would heaven be without youth 
and beauty forever shining through it? 

Thjasse told Loki that he could not go unless he 
would promise to bring him the Apples of Idun. Loki 
was wicked enough for anything; but when it came to 
robbing the gods of their immortality, even he hesi- 
tated. And while he hesitated the eagle dashed hither 
and thither, flinging him against the sides of the moun- 
tains and dragging him through the great tough boughs 
of the oaks until his courage gave out entirely, and he 
promised to steal the Apples out of Asgard and give 
them to the giant. 

Loki was bruised and sore enough when he got on his 
feet again to hate the giant who handled him so roughly, 
with all his heart, but he was not unwilling to keep 
his promise to steal the Apples, if only for the sake of 
tormenting the other gods. But how was it to be done ? 
Idun guarded the golden fruit of immortality with sleep- 
less watchfulness. No one ever touched it but herself, 
and a beautiful sight it was to see her fair hands spread 


The Apples of I dun 


333 


it forth for the morning feasts in Asgard. The power 
which Loki possessed lay not so much in his own strength, 
although he had a smooth way of deceiving people, as in 
the goodness of others who had no thought of his doing 
wrong because they never did wrong themselves. 

Not long after all this happened, Loki came carelessly 
up to Idun as she was gathering her Apples to put them 
away in the beautiful carven box which held them. 

“Good-morning, goddess,” said he. “How fair and 
golden your Apples are!” 

“Yes,” answered Idun; “the bloom of youth keeps 
them always beautiful.” 

“I never saw anything like them,” continued Loki 
slowly, as if he were talking about a matter of no impor- 
tance, “until the other day.” 

Idun looked up at once with the greatest interest and 
curiosity in her face. She was very proud of her Apples, 
and she knew no earthly trees, however large and fair, 
bore the immortal fruit. 

“Where have you seen any Apples like them?” she 
asked. 

“Oh, just outside the gates,” said Loki indifferently. 
“If you care to see them I’ll take you there. It will keep 
you but a moment. The tree is only a little way off.” 

Idun was anxious to go at once. 

“Better take your Apples with you, to compare them 
with the others,” said the wily god, as she prepared to go. 

Idun gathered up the golden Apples and went out of 
Asgard, carrying with her all that made it heaven. No 
sooner was she beyond the gates than a mighty rushing 
sound was heard, like the coming of a tempest, and before 
she could think or act, the giant Thjasse, in his eagle 
plumage, was bearing her swiftly away through the air 


334 Myths Every Child Should Know 

to his desolate, icy home in Thrymheim, where, after 
vainly trying to persuade her to let him eat the Apples 
and be forever young like the gods, he kept her a lonely 
prisoner. 

Loki, after keeping his promise and delivering Idun 
into the hands of the giant, strayed back into Asgard as 
if nothing had happened. The next morning, when the 
gods assembled for their feast, there was no Idun. 
Day after day went past, and still the beautiful goddess 
did not come. Little by little the light of youth and 
beauty faded from the home of the gods, and they them- 
selves became old and haggard. Their strong, young 
faces were lined with care and furrowed by age, their 
raven locks passed from gray to white, and their flashing 
eyes became dim and hollow. Brage, the god of poetry, 
could make no music while his beautiful wife was gone 
he knew not whither. 

Morning after morning the faded light broke on paler 
and ever paler faces, until even in heaven the eternal 
light of youth seemed to be going out forever. 

Finally the gods could bear the loss of power and joy 
no longer. They made rigorous inquiry. They tracked 
Loki on that fair morning when he led Idun beyond the 
gates; they seized him and brought him into solemn 
council, and when he read in their haggard faces the 
deadly hate which flamed in all their hearts against his 
treachery, his courage failed, and he promised to bring 
Idun back to Asgard if the goddess Freyja would lend 
him her falcon guise. No sooner said than done; and 
with eager gaze the gods watched him as he flew away, 
becoming at last only a dark moving speck against the 
sky. 

After long and weary flight Loki came to Thrymheim, 


The Apples of I dun 


335 


and was glad enough to find Thjasse gone to sea and 
Idun alone in his dreary house. He changed her instantly 
into a nut, and taking her thus disguised in his talons, 
flew away as fast as his falcon wings could carry him. 
And he had need of all his speed, for Thjasse, coming 
suddenly home and finding Idun and her precious fruit 
gone, guessed what had happened, and, putting on his 
eagle plumage, flew forth in a mighty rage, with ven- 
geance in his heart. Like the rushing wings of a tempest, 
his mighty pinions beat the air and bore him swiftly 
onward. From mountain peak to mountain peak he 
measured his wide course, almost grazing at times the 
murmuring pine forests, and then sweeping high in mid- 
air with nothing above but the arching sky, and nothing 
beneath but the tossing sea. 

At last he sees the falcon far ahead, and now his flight 
becomes like the flash of the lightning for swiftness, and 
like the rushing of clouds for uproar. The haggard 
faces of the gods line the walls of Asgard and watch the 
race with tremulous eagerness. Youth and immortality 
are staked upon the winning of Loki. He is weary 
enough and frightened enough, too, as the eagle sweeps on 
close behind him; but he makes desperate efforts to widen 
the distance between them. Little by little the eagle 
gains on the falcon. The gods grow white with fear; they 
rush off and prepare great fires upon the walls. With 
fainting, drooping wing the falcon passes over and 
drops exhausted by the wall. In an instant the fires 
have been lighted, and the great flames roar to heaven. 
The eagle sweeps across the fiery line a second later, and 
falls, maimed and burned, to the ground, where a dozen 
fierce hands smite the life out of him, and the great giant 
Thjasse perishes among his foes. 


336 Myths Every Child Should Know 

Idun resumes her natural form as Brage rushes to meet 
her. The gods crowd round her. She spreads the 
feast, the golden Apples gleaming with unspeakable 
lustre in the eyes of the gods. They eat; and once more 
their faces glow with the beauty of immortal youth, their 
eyes flash with the radiance of divine power, and, while 
Idun stands like a star for beauty among the throng, the 
song of Brage is heard once more; for poetry and im- 
mortality are wedded again. 


CHAPTER XV 


THE DEATH OF BALDER 

There was one shadow which always/ fell over Asgard. 
Sometimes in the long years the gods almost forgot it, 
it lay so far off, like a dim cloud in a clear sky; but Odin 
saw it deepen and widen as he looked out into the uni- 
verse, and he knew that the last great battle would surely 
come, when the gods themselves would be destroyed and 
a long twilight would rest on all the worlds; and now 
the day was close at hand. Misfortunes never come 
singly to men, and they did not to the gods. Idun, the 
beautiful goddess of youth, whose apples were the joy of 
all Asgard, made a resting place for herself among the 
massive branches of Yggdrasil, and there every evening 
came Brage, and sang so sweetly that the birds stopped 
to listen, and even the Norns, those implacable sisters at 
the foot of the tree, were softened by the melody. But 
poetry cannot change the purposes of fate, and one 
evening no song was heard of Brage or birds, 
the leaves of the world tree hung withered and 
lifeless on the branches, and the fountain from 
which they had daily been sprinkled was dry 
at last. Idun had fallen into the dark valley of death, 
and when Brage, Heimdal, and Loki went to question 
her about the future she could answer them only 
with tears. Brage would not leave his beautiful 
wife alone amid the dim shades that crowded the 


337 


338 Myths Every Child Should Know 

dreary valley, and so youth and genius vanished out of 
Asgard forever. 

Balder was the most godlike of all the gods, because 
he was the purest and the best. Wherever he went his 
coming was like the coming of sunshine, and all the beauty 
of summer was but the shining of his face. When men’s 
hearts were white like the light, and their lives clear as 
the day, it was because Balder was looking down upon 
them with those soft, clear eyes that were open windows 
to the soul of God. He had always lived in such a glow 
of brightness that no darkness had ever touched him; 
but one morning, after Idun and Brage had gone, 
Balder’s face was sad and troubled. He walked slowly 
from room to room in his palace Breidablik, stainless as 
the sky when April showers have swept across it because 
no impure thing had ever crossed the threshold, and 
his eyes were heavy with sorrow. In the night terrible 
dreams had broken his sleep, and madi\ it a long torture. 
The air seemed to be full of awful changes for him and 
for all the gods. He knew in his soul that the shadow 
of the last great day was sweeping on ; as he looked out and 
saw the worlds lying in light and beauty, the fields yellow 
with waving grain, the deep fiords flashing back the sun- 
beams from their clear depths, the verdure clothing the 
loftiest mountains, and knew that over all this darkness 
and desolation would come, with silence of reapers and 
birds, with fading of leaf and flower, a great sorrow fell 
on his heart. 

Balder could bear the burden no longer. He went out, 
called all the gods together, and told them the terrible 
dreams of the night. Every face was heavy with care. 
The death of Balder would be like the going out of the 
sun, and after a long, sad council the gods resolved to 


The Death of Balder 


339 


protect him from harm by pledging all things to stand 
between him and any hurt. So Frigg, his mother, went 
forth and made everything promise, on a solemn oath, 
not to injure her son. Fire, iron, all kinds of metal, every 
sort of stone, trees, earth, diseases, birds, beasts, snakes, 
as the anxious mother went to them, solemnly pledged 
themselves that no harm should come near Balder. 
Everything promised, and Frigg thought she had driven 
away the cloud; but fate was stronger than her love, and 
one little shrub had not sworn. 

Odin was not satisfied even with these precautions, for 
whichever way he looked the shadow of a great sorrow 
spread over the worlds. He began to feel as if he were 
no longer the greatest of the gods, and he could almost 
hear the rough shouts of the frost giants crowding the 
rainbow bridge on their way into Asgard. When trouble 
comes to men it is hard to bear, but to a god who had so 
many worlds to guide and rule it was a new and terrible 
thing. Odin thought and thought until he was weary, 
but no gleam of light could he find anywhere; it was 
thick darkness everywhere. 

At last he could bear the suspense no longer, and 
saddling his horse he rode sadly out of Asgard to Niflheim, 
the home of Hel, whose face was as the face of death itself. 
As he drew near the gates, a monstrous dog came out and 
barked furiously, but Odin rode a little eastward of the 
shadowy gates to the grave of a wonderful prophetess. 
It was a cold, gloomy place, and the soul of the great 
god was pierced with a feeling of hopeless sorrow as he 
dismounted from Sleipner, and bending over the grave 
began to chant weird songs, and weave magical charms 
over it. When he had spoken those wonderful words 
which could waken the dead from their sleep, there was 


340 Myths Every Child Should Know 

an awful silence for a moment, and then a faint ghost- 
like voice came from the grave. 

“Who art thou?” it said. “Who breaketh the silence 
of death, and calleth the sleeper out of her long slumbers ? 
Ages ago I was laid at rest here, snow and rain have fallen 
upon me through myriad years; why dost thou disturb 
me?” 

“I am Vegtam,” answered Odin, “and I come to ask 
why the couches of Hel are hung with gold and the benches 
strewn with shining rings?” 

“It is done for Balder,” answered the awful voice; 
“ask me no more.” 

Odin’s heart sank when he heard these words; but he 
was determined to know the worst. 

“I will ask thee until I know all. Who shall strike 
the fatal blow ? ” 

“If I must, I must,” moaned the prophetess. “Hoder 
shall smite his brother Balder and sendvhim down to the 
dark home of Hel. The mead is already brewed for 
Balder, and the despair draweth near.” 

Then Odin, looking into the future across the open 
grave, saw all the days to come. 

“Who is this,” he said, seeing that which no mortal 
could have seen; “who is this that will not weep for 
Balder?” 

Then the prophetess knew that it was none other than 
the greatest of the gods who had called her up. 

“Thou art not Vegtam,” she exclaimed, “thou art 
Odin himself, the king of men.” 

“And thou,” answered Odin angrily, “art no prophet- 
ess, but the mother of three giants.” 

“Ride home, then, and exult in what thou hast dis- 
covered,” said the dead woman. “Never shall my 


The Death oj Balder 


34i 


slumbers be broken again until Loki shall burst his 
chains and the great battle come.” 

And Odin rode sadly homeward knowing that already 
Niflheim was making itself beautiful against the coming 
of Balder. 

The other gods meanwhile had become merry again; 
for had not everything promised to protect their beloved 
Balder? They even made sport of that which troubled 
them, for when they found that nothing could hurt 
Balder, and that all things glanced aside from his shining 
form, they persuaded him to stand as a target for their 
weapons; hurling darts, spears, swords, and battle- 
axes at him, all of which went singing through the air 
and fell harmless at his feet. But Loki, when he saw 
these sports, was jealous of Balder, and went about 
thinking how he could destroy him. 

It happened that as Frigg sat spinning in her house 
Fensal, the soft wind blowing in at the windows and 
bringing the merry shouts of the gods at play, an old 
woman entered and approached her. 

“Do you know,” asked the newcomer, “what they are 
doing in Asgard? They are throwing all manner of 
dangerous weapons at Balder. He stands there like the 
sun for brightness, and against his glory, spears and battle- 
axes fall powerless to the ground. Nothing can harm 
him.” 

“No,” answered Frigg joyfully; “nothing can bring 
him any hurt, for I have made everything in heaven and 
earth swear to protect him.” 

“What!” said the old woman, “has everything sworn 
to guard Balder?” 

“Yes,” said Frigg, “everything has sworn except one 
little shrub which is called Mistletoe, and grows on the 


34 2 Myths Every Child Should Know 

eastern side of Valhal. I did not take an oath from that 
because I thought it too young and weak.” 

When the old woman heard this a strange light came 
into her eyes; she walked off much faster than she had 
come in, and no sooner had she passed beyond Frigg’s 
sight than this same feeble old woman grew suddenly 
erect, shook off her woman’s garments, and there stood 
Loki himself. In a moment he had reached the slope 
east of Valhal, had plucked a twig of the unsworn Mistle- 
toe, and was back in the circle of the gods, who were still 
at their favourite pastime with Balder. Hoder was 
standing silent and alone outside the noisy throng, for 
he was blind. Loki touched him. 

“Why do you not throw something at Balder?” 

“Because I cannot see where Balder stands, and have 
nothing to throw if I could,” replied Hoder. 

“If that is all,” said Loki, “come with me. I will give 
you something to throw, and direct youi> aim.” 

Hoder, thinking no evil, went with Loki and did as 
he was told. 

The little sprig of Mistletoe shot through the air, 
pierced the heart of Balder, and in a moment the beautiful 
god lay dead upon the field. A shadow rose out of the 
deep beyond the worlds and spread itself over heaven 
and earth, for the light of the universe had gone out. 

The gods could not speak for horror. They stood like 
statues for a moment, and then a hopeless wail burst 
from their lips. Tears fell like rain from eyes that had 
never wept before, for Balder, the joy of Asgard, had 
gone to Niflheim and left them desolate. But Odin was 
saddest of all, because he knew the future, and he knew 
that peace and light had fled from Asgard forever, and 
that the last day and the long night were hurrying on. 


The Death oj Balder 


343 


Frigg could not give up her beautiful son, and when her 
grief had spent itself a little, she asked who would go 
to Hel and offer her a rich ransom if she would permit 
Balder to return to Asgard. 

“I will go,” said Hermod; swift at the word of Odin 
Sleipner was led forth, and in an instant Hermod was 
galloping furiously away. 

Then the gods began with sorrowful hearts to make 
ready for Balder’s funeral. When the once beautiful 
form had been arrayed in grave clothes they carried it 
reverently down to the deep sea, which lay, calm as a 
summer afternoon, waiting for its precious burden. 
Close to the water’s edge lay Balder’s Ringhorn, the 
greatest of all the ships that sailed the seas, but when 
the gods tried to launch it they could not move it an inch. 
The great vessel creaked and groaned, but no one could 
push it down to the water. Odin walked about it with a 
sad face, and the gentle ripple of the little waves chasing 
each other over the rocks seemed a mocking laugh to him. 

“Send to Jotunheim for Hyrroken,” he said at last; and 
a messenger was soon flying for that mighty giantess. 

In a little time, Hyrroken came riding swiftly on a 
wolf so large and fierce that he made the gods think of 
Fenrer. When the giantess had alighted, Odin ordered 
four Berserkers of mighty strength to hold the wolf, but 
he struggled so angrily that they had to throw him on the 
ground before they could control him. Then Hyrroken 
went to the prow of the ship and with one mighty effort 
sent it far into the sea, the rollers underneath bursting 
into flame, and the whole earth trembling with the shock. 
Thor was so angry at the uproar that he would have 
killed the giantess on the spot if he had not been held 
back by the other gods. The great ship floated on the 


344 


Myths Every Child Should Know 


sea as she had often done before, when Balder, full of life 
and beauty, set all her sails and was borne joyfully 
across the tossing seas. Slowly and solemnly the dead 
god was carried on board, and as Nanna, his faithful wife, 
saw her husband borne for the last time from the earth 
which he had made dear to her and beautiful to all men, 
her heart broke with sorrow, and they laid her beside 
Balder on the funeral pyre. 

Since the world began no one had seen such a funeral. 
No bells tolled, no long procession of mourners moved 
across the hills, but all the worlds lay under a deep 
shadow, and from every quarter came those who had 
loved or feared Balder. There at the very water’s edge 
stood Odin himself, the ravens flying about his head, and 
on his majestic face a gloom that no sun would ever 
lighten again; and there was Frigg, the desolate mother 
whose son had already gone so far that he would never 
come back to her; there was Frey standing sad and 
stern in his chariot; there was Freyja, the goddess of 
love, from whose eyes fell a shining rain of tears; there, 
too, was Heimdal on his horse Goldtop; and around all 
these glorious ones from Asgard crowded the children 
of Jotunheim, grim mountain giants seamed with scars 
from Thor’s hammer, and frost giants who saw in the 
death of Balder the coming of that long winter in which 
they should reign through all the worlds. 

A deep hush fell on all created things, and every eye 
was fixed on the great ship riding near the shore, and on 
the funeral pyre rising from the deck crowned with the 
forms of Balder and Nanna. Suddenly a gleam of 
light flashed over the water; the pile had been kindled, 
and the flames, creeping slowly at first, climbed faster 
and faster until they met over the dead and rose skyward. 


The Death oj Balder 


345 


A lurid light filled the heavens and shone on the sea, and 
in the brightness of it the gods looked pale and sad, and 
the circle of giants grew darker and more portentous. 
Thor struck the fast burning pyre with his consecrating 
hammer, and Odin cast into it the wonderful ring Draup- 
ner. Higher and higher leaped the flames, more and 
more desolate grew the scene; at last they began to sink, 
the funeral pyre was consumed. Balder had vanished 
forever, the summer was ended, and winter waited at the 
doors. 

Meanwhile Hermod was riding hard and fast on his 
gloomy errand. Nine days and nights he rode through 
valleys so deep and dark that he could not see his horse. 
Stillness and blackness and solitude were his only com- 
panions until he came to the golden bridge which crosses 
the river Gjol. The good horse Sleipner, who had 
carried Odin on so many strange journeys, had never 
travelled such a road before, and his hoofs rang drearily 
as he stopped short at the bridge, for in front of him stood 
its porter, the gigantic Modgud. 

“Who are you?” she asked, fixing her piercing eyes on 
Hermod. “ What is your name and parentage ? Yester- 
day five bands of dead men rode across the bridge, and 
beneath them all it did not shake as under your single 
tread. There is no colour of death in your face. Why 
ride you hither, the living among the dead?” 

“I come,” said Hermod, “to seek for Balder. Have 
you seen him pass this way?” 

“He has already crossed the bridge and taken his 
journey northward to Hel.” 

Then Hermod rode slowly across the bridge that spans 
the abyss between life and death, and found his way at 
last to the barred gates of HePs dreadful home. There he 


346 Myths Every Child Should Know 

sprang to the ground, tightened the girths, remounted, 
drove the spurs deep into the horse, and Sleipner, with a 
mighty leap, cleared the wall. Hermod rode straight to 
the gloomy palace, dismounted, entered, and in a moment 
was face to face with the terrible queen of the kingdom of 
the dead. Beside her, on a beautiful throne, sat Balder, 
pale and wan, crowned with a withered wreath of 
flowers, and close at hand was Nanna, pallid as her 
husband, for whom she had died. And all night long, 
while ghostly forms wandered restless and sleepless 
through Helheim, Hermod talked with Balder and 
Nanna. There is no record of what they said, but the 
talk was sad enough, doubtless, and ran like a still stream 
among the happy days in Asgard when B alder’s smile 
was morning over the earth and the sight of his face 
the summer of the world. 

When the morning came, faint and dim, through the 
dusky palace, Hermod sought Hel, who received him as 
cold and stern as fate. 

“Your kingdom is full, O Hel!” he said, “and without 
Balder, Asgard is empty. Send him back to us once 
more, for there is sadness in every heart and tears are in 
every eye. Through heaven and earth all things weep 
for him.” 

“If that is true,” was the slow, icy answer, “if every 
created thing weeps for Balder, he shall return to Asgard ; 
but if one eye is dry he remains henceforth in Helheim.” 

Then Hermod rode swiftly away, and the decree of 
Hel was soon told in Asgard. Through all the worlds 
the gods sent messengers to say that all who loved 
Balder should weep for his return, and everywhere tears 
fell like rain. There was weeping in Asgard, and in all 
the earth there was nothing that did not weep. Men and 


The Death oj Balder 


347 


women and little children, missing the light that had once 
fallen into their hearts and homes, sobbed with bitter 
grief; the birds of the air, who had sung carols of joy at 
the gates of the morning since time began, were full 
of sorrow; the beasts of the fields crouched and moaned 
in their desolation ; the great trees, that had put on their 
robes of green at Balder’s command, sighed as the wind 
wailed through them; and the sweet flowers, that waited 
for Balder’s footstep and sprang up in all the fields to 
greet him, hung their frail blossoms and wept bitterly 
for the love and the warmth and the light that had gone 
out. Throughout the whole earth there was nothing 
but weeping, and the sound of it was like the wailing of 
those storms in autumn that weep for the dead summer 
as its withered leaves drop one by one from the trees. 

The messengers of the gods went gladly back to Asgard, 
for everything had wept for Balder; but as they journeyed 
they came upon a giantess, called Thok, and her eyes 
were dry. 

“Weep for Balder,” they said. 

“With dry eyes only will I weep for Balder,” she 
answered. “Dead or alive, he never gave me gladness. 
Let him stay in Helheim.” 

When she had spoken these words a terrible laugh 
broke from her lips, and the messengers looked at each 
other with pallid faces, for they knew it was the voice of 
Loki. 

Balder never came back to Asgard, and the. shadows 
deepened over all things, for the night of death was 
fast coming on. 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE STAR AND THE LILY 

An old chieftain sat in his wigwam, quietly smoking 
his favourite pipe, when a crowd of Indian boys and 
girls suddenly entered, and, with numerous offerings of 
tobacco, begged him to tell them a story, and he did so. 

There was once a time when this world was filled with 
happy people; when all the nations were as one, and the 
crimson tide of war had not begun to roll. Plenty of 
game was in the forest and on the plains. None were 
in want, for a full supply was at hand. Sickness was 
unknown. The beasts of the field were tame; they came 
and went at the bidding of man. One unending spring 
gave no place for winter — for its cold blasts or its un- 
healthy chills. Every tree and bush yielded fruit. 
Flowers carpeted the earth. The air was laden with their 
fragrance, and redolent with the songs of wedded warblers 
that flew from branch to branch, fearing none, for there 
were none to harm them. There were birds then of 
more beautiful song and plumage than now. It was at 
such a time, when earth was a paradise and man worthily 
its possessor, that the Indians were lone inhabitants of 
the American wilderness. They numbered millions; and, 
living as nature designed them to live, enjoyed its many 
blessings. Instead of amusements in close rooms, the 
sport of the field was theirs. At night they met on the 
wide green beneath the heavenly worlds — the ah-nung-o- 
348 


The Star and the Lily 


349 


kali. They watched the stars ; they loved to gaze at them, 
for they believed them to be the residences of the good, 
who had been taken home by the Great Spirit. 

One night they saw one star that shone brighter than 
all others. Its location was far away in the south, near a 
mountain peak. For many nights it was seen, till at 
length it was doubted by many that the star was as far 
distant in the southern skies as it seemed to be. This 
doubt led to an examination, which proved the star to be 
only a short distance away, and near the tops of some 
trees. A number of warriors were deputed to go and 
see what it was. They went, and on their return said it 
appeared strange, and somewhat like a bird. A com- 
mittee of the wise men were called to inquire into, and if 
possible to ascertain the meaning of, the strange phenome- 
non. They feared that it might be the omen of some 
disaster. Some thought it a precursor of good, others of 
evil; and some supposed it to be the star spoken of by 
their forefathers as the forerunner of a dreadful war. 

One moon had nearly gone by, and yet the mystery 
remained unsolved. One night a young warrior had a 
dream, in which a beautiful maiden came and stood at 
his side, and thus addressed him: “Young brave! 
charmed with the land of my forefathers, its flowers, its 
birds, its rivers, its beautiful lakes, and its mountains 
clothed with green, I have left my sisters in yonder 
world to dwell among you. Young brave! ask your wise 
and your great men where I can live and see the happy 
race continually; ask them what form I shall assume in 
order to be loved.” 

Thus discoursed the bright stranger. The young man 
awoke. On stepping out of his lodge he saw the star 
yet blazing in its accustomed place. At early dawn the 


3So Myths Every Child Should Know 

chief’s crier was sent round the camp to call every warrior 
to the council lodge. When they had met, the young 
warrior related his dream. They concluded that the 
star that had been seen in the south had fallen in love 
with mankind, and that it was desirous to dwell with 
them. 

The next night five tall, noble-looking, adventurous 
braves were sent to welcome the stranger to earth. They 
went and presented to it a pipe of peace, filled with 
sweet-scented herbs, and were rejoiced that it took it from 
them. As they returned to the village, the star, with 
expanded wings, followed, and hovered over their homes 
till the dawn of day. Again it came to the young man in 
a dream, and desired to know where it should live and 
what form it should take. Places were named — on the 
top of giant trees, or in flowers. At length it was told to 
choose a place itself, and it did so. At ‘first it dwelt in 
the white rose of the mountains; but there it was so 
buried that it could not be seen. It went to the prairie; 
but it feared the hoof of the buffalo. It next sought the 
rocky cliff; but there it was so high that the children, 
whom it loved most, could not see it. 

“I know where I shall live,” said the bright fugitive — 
“ where I can see the gliding canoe of the race I most 
admire. Children! — yes, they shall be my playmates, 
and I will kiss their slumber by the side of cool lakes. 
The nation shall love me wherever I am.” 

These words having been said, she alighted on the 
waters, where she saw herself reflected. The next 
morning thousands of white flowers were seen on the 
surface of the lakes, and the Indians gave them this 
name, wah-be-gwan-nee (white flower). 

This star lived in the southern skies. Her brethren 


The Star and the Lily 


35 * 


can be seen far off in the cold north, hunting the Great 
Bear, whilst her sisters watch her in the east and west. 

Children! when you see the lily on the waters, take it in 
your hands and hold it to the skies, that it may be happy 
on earth, as its two sisters, the morning and evening 
stars, are happy in heaven. 






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